The Mouse

Yesterday evening, I was alone in the house. Well, not exactly alone. Pepper, Eddie, and Sparky are ever-present companions.

I had decided to make a batch of roasted brussel sprouts. Notable, because I had bought brussel sprouts for the first time in my life earlier in the day, and I have never liked brussel sprouts. But the recipe from Veganomicon (a vegan cookbook that I have though I am neither a vegetarian or a vegan) assured me that it would be good.

In the kitchen, just about to prepare the little sprouts for roasting, I heard a rustling behind the refrigerator. Creepy. The cats have been very interested in that area lately, but I hadn't heard or seen anything suspicious.

I shoved the refrigerator out, peeked over the countertop, and saw a  plump mouse, interrupted in its act of making a nest out of a piece of turquoise paper. We stared at each other in a standoff for long seconds. I could do nothing. I didn't have anything within reach to throw or use to whack at it. 

I had just taken the "Would You Survive the Hunger Games?" test on Facebook earlier in the day. I chose the food from the cornucopia and negotiating to share the jug of water. I chose a cosy cave to sleep at night. and found that I had a zero percent chance of surviving. 

Which means that even if I did have a broom or pan in hand, I probably wouldn't have had the heart to attack the mouse. When I looked at the mouse, I thought of Jonathon Frisby from Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH. I thought of Mrs. Frisby and her sick son. That's what comes of too much reading of animal stories. The mouse wins.

I moved the refrigerator out so Pepper could get back there. She's a catcher of squirrels, so I trust her rodent catching abilities and drive. I hauled the kittens out of their napping spots, and the three animals stood on alert for a while.

Then Sparky gave up and went back to his nap on top of a cardboard scratching pad. Such a slacker.

Here are Pepper and Eddie, being diligent. The good pets.

Animals earning their keep

Later on, we all gave up. I made my brussel sprouts, which were surprisingly good. Justin came home and was disappointed that I had made a panful of brussel sprouts for dinner (in defense of my feeding of my fifteen year old son, there was leftover homemade pizza. I'm not cruel).

Old picture, but same pose as last night.

Pepper growled at Eddie when he tried to cuddle up, but eventually gave in. Eddie was undoubtably separated from his mother too early. He has abandonment issues and doesn't like to nap alone.

I woke up this morning thinking about what kind of mousetrap to get. The nasty back-breaking ones are probably the kindest. Immediate, with no suffering. But they're nasty. We've used the sticky ones before, but that's gross too. Lots of stress and panic for little Jonathon mouse.

Out in the living room, I found Sparky, the slacker cat, playing with the decidedly dead mouse. In terms of stress and ease of passing on for little Jonathon mouse, this was not the best way to go, but for me, getting ready to have twenty-five family members over for Thanksgiving, this is wonderful.

So here's Sparky, fearsome hunter. He's the kitty with a weird respiratory system. His purring is annoyingly loud and in spite of medication, he sneezes, loudly. But he has definitely increased his household status.