Looking back through history, it’s easy to see why people kept cats. It wasn’t because they come when you call them, sit in your lap when you need comfort, or eat leftover food like dogs or husbands do. Nope. It was because they caught mice. People kept them in the barn so it wasn’t overrun with the little grey menaces (although, it was often eventually overrun with kittens) and people even occasionally let them in the house to do their duty, ridding the pantry of unwanted vermin, earning their keep so to speak. I mean, there’s no such thing as a free saucer of milk, right? The cat catches a mouse, the cat gets rewarded with cream. Everyone’s happy.
Well, I’m here to say that today’s cats are spoiled. Perhaps we went wrong buying them those soft fleece lined beds. Or maybe it was the water glasses instead of bowls because they prefer glasses. Or possibly they feel entitled because even though they have a pet door, every time they paw at the French doors, we jump up and let them inside. Or outside. Or back in. Or out. Or…you get the picture.
It could be that we sit in the hard chairs and let them lounge in the velvet one in front of the fire. Or maybe it’s the special cat food we buy that comes out of the feeder on a timer so they never have to wait for a human to feed them. It’s possible that they think they are the King and Queen of the joint because if one of them curls up right in the middle of the bed between us and my husband has to get up to go to the bathroom, he snakes his way out from under the covers in order not to disturb the cat (of course, when it’s just the two of us and he has to get up, he just flings the covers back, either doubling mine up and roasting me or pulling them off both of us and freezing me…but that’s another post). Regardless of where we might’ve gone wrong with Miss Sophie and Grinder, they are treated really well and you’d think the least they can do is remember that their job is to RID the house of mice, NOT BRING THEM INSIDE.
Yes, that’s right. We are the proud owners of a mouse who we did not invite to live with us, but the cats think makes a jolly plaything indoors where they won’t get wet by the June rain, so they brought him inside and let him go. When I complained to my husband that I was not the least bit happy about this, his response was, “Oh, it’s just a mouse. You’ve had skunks, opossums, chipmunks, birds, and half a squirrel in the house before. What’s the big deal?” The BIG deal is it is a friggin’ mouse! And what’s more, just like the opossum and many chipmunks before him, he’s in MY office. Not the kitchen or the living room or the bathroom, but MY OFFICE. And where are the cats not allowed to go? That’s right. My office. This is one smart mouse.
So…what do you think I should name him?
Mice are not very nice, I do agree. But Grinder and Sophie are just being cats! My four cats, who have been written about in Joelle’s Soup Sunday blog, as we are all regular guests, bring me stuff too. Yes, Tigre, Hobbes and Biscuit bring me mice, moles and birds but Calvin brings me snakes. He’ll race in through the cat door, and drop my “present” at my feet, which is a daily event this time of year. And they are very much alive. Now, where does he get these snakes from, you ask? From the snake pit in the ravine in front of Joelle and Victor’s house. Technically, these are snakes that belong to Joelle and Victor! I think Joelle needs to train her kitties to bring her snakes instead. They are actually much easier to catch and you don’t need traps or anything. Just sweep them up into the dustbin. Joelle, I can send Calvin over to teach Sophie and Grinder the fine art of snake relocation if you like!
OMG I could not be in your office, even the thought is making my toes curl up! The culprits are so cute though I’m sure they’ve already been forgiven!
shudder…
Mouse in the house not good.
A moniker for the mouse eh? Well, I kinda like EEEK! since that’s what Joelle said the first time she saw it. No Show is another possibility since we really haven’t seen too much of him/her. Or perhaps The Phantom Of The Office (Actually, I have yet to see the creature at all so who knows? Maybe Joelle is making the whole thing up). Wait! How about Scooter? Sounds great next to Scamper which is Miss Sophie’s nickname. Yeah, I’m going with Scooter but only because I know Joelle won’t endorse EEEK!
Oh, that’s too funny! One of my cats did the same thing one evening, and I was so freaked out that the poor mouse was dying a slow death from internal bleeding that I rigged up a little box with shredded paper and placed it high up on a storage shelf — so Mr. Mouse could die in peace and warmth.
Needless to say, my cat went crazy trying to get at the thing, sounded like he was tearing down the storage shelves, and I didn’t get any sleep.
The next morning? The stink! How one little mouse could stink the place up so badly, I don’t know, but what do you know: He was cozily sleeping and lit out into the bushes with nothing wrong with him.
My cat, spoiled man, ignored me for three days. AND, the next time he brought in a mouse, it was already dead. He showed me.