Wednesday, September 28, 2005

A little game of cat and mouse

Cats are interesting creatures, of which we have two.

As cat lovers know and animal “experts” will tell you, the fuzzy little critters will occasionally supply their masters with gifts in order to earn affection or show that they are doing their part around the house. We only have one cat that chooses to display her affection in such a manner. Our cat’s gift of choice is usually crickets that she has caught in our breezeway and shop area and drug into the house through the cat door. Unfortunately, the gifts are seldom dead before delivery.

This was the case a few nights ago in my humble abode. The hour was approaching 11 p.m. as my wife and I lay in bed trying to get some much-needed sleep. However, a bad case of busy mind was keeping me from slumber and my wife had come to bed late after working on the computer throughout the evening.

Needless to say, we were both awake.

It was at this point that Bacall, the female cat, jumped into bed as she often does. While sitting on the bed, Bacall let out a muffled meow/growl, the type of noise she usually makes when she is griping at small creatures mocking her outside of the bedroom window. Generally when this occurs, I simply kick the cat off the bed and don’t think anything about it.

Tonight, however, I decided to turn on the bedside lamp. Man, am I glad I did. Standing at the foot of the bed was our dark, tortoiseshell cat staring at us, bearing gifts. The reason for the muffled mewing was soon evident as I noticed that wiggling in her mouth was not the usual maimed and slightly dismembered cricket, but instead was a small, lightly colored mouse, fighting desperately to escape.

Imagine my surprise.

Now, I said I was glad I turned on the light. I am not one to get freaked out easily, but imagine, if you will, waking up to the feeling of a small furry creature scurrying across your semi-clad body in the middle of the night, only to determine upon awaking that you are staring face-to-face with a diseased rodent. Not my idea of a good night’s sleep. I was potty trained at an early age and have been fairly successful to abide by the laws of nature as applied to human behavior, but I think such a scenario might have resulted in a certain level of incontinence.

However, since I was already awake and aware of the situation, I jumped out of bed, just as the cat dropped the mouse. As the little creature began to scurry away, I quickly wrapped it up in my covers and kept it from escaping.

At this point my wife was up, wondering what was going on.

“Mouse. Go open the door,” I said.

We have a sliding glass door in our bedroom that leads to the back yard. I thought taking the covers outside and shaking loose the intruder would be an appropriate and humane means of disposal.

One should realize, however, that it is a good idea when undertaking such an endeavor to move a significant distance from the open doorway. As I stood on my little porch and began shaking out the covers, the mouse fell to the ground and promptly bolted back into the house.

To make matters worse, Bogey, the male cat who is bigger, faster, stronger and quicker than Bacall just watched. The mouse ducked right inside the corner, just inches from the doorway and stopped, shivering in fear as he peared up at his worst nightmare. Bogey looked at the mouse, looked at me, looked back at the mouse, then calmly walked outside to see if there was anything interesting going on.

“Freedom!” You could almost hear the little critter scream as he watched the dreaded predator walk right past him without so much as feigning interest. Off like a shot, the little fellow zipped into the bathroom and dove under the cabinet, never to be heard from again.

…… After digging some fresh bedclothes out of the closet, my wife and I returned to bed, only to find Bacall, spread out across the sheets with a look of satisfied triumph splashed across her fuzzy feline face.

I don't really know where Bacall found the mouse, or what she had to do to catch it, but one thing was made perfectly clear. Between the dastardly gifter and the great white hunter who stared his prey in the face then walked away, I have determined that my house cats are worthless.

Or perhaps they’re just too well fed …………..

1 comment:

spookyrach said...

This made me laugh out loud!!! Wait until you install a cat door and they start bringing in live rabbits. (Its happened to us twice, now.)