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February 5, 2006
With Great Power . . .
. . . Comes Great Responsibility.
It is my awesome charge to launch Pet Week here at Literary Chicks. I can't believe they've trusted me with this huge responsibility. Honestly, I don't know what they were thinking, but here we are. I'm trying to take my duty very seriously, especially since it's in honor of Brenda's upcoming book MONKEY LOVE that Lani says is FREAKIN' FABULOUS and since Lani is honest to a fault, it must be true. I, for one, can't wait to read it. So without further adieu, I will tell you that I have a mouse in my house.
No. I'm not going off into some weird alternate Dr. Seuss universe. There's a mouse in my kitchen. I haven't actually seen this mouse, but I know it's there because the cat is spending hours and hours sitting and staring at the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink.
I also know because when Cowboy went to take out the garbage the other day, he said, "Hey! There's a mouse under the kitchen sink. No wonder the cat is spending hours and hours sitting and staring at the cupboard underneath the kitchen sink."
I demanded immediate mouse removal. Just the thought of it scampering out of the cupboard and over my feet and being touched by its nasty little mouse paws made my skin crawl a little. Cowboy, however, demurred.
"It's an honorable mouse," he said. "It won't run out of the cupboard and scamper over your feet with its nasty little mouse paws. Besides, look how happy it's making the cat."
We are all about making the cat happy. Last summer when our black cat Shadow (the white cat is named Snowy -- we are an imaginative bunch here at the Rendahl Ranch when it comes to naming) became unhappy for reasons we are yet to understand, he began clawing at his own back with a ferocity that left my house looking like a murder scene for CSI Feline. After many weeks of expensive testing, trips to the vet, giving him kitty cat Prozac and performing wildly imaginative dressing changes (have you ever tried to bandage a cat?), he simply stopped hurting himself. We really really don't want to trigger some kind relapse. If we do, I might have to take the kitty cat Prozac myself. I might have to chase it down with a lot of alcohol. It was awful. I will do almost anything to avoid this, up to and apparently including allowing a mouse to live in my house.
I generally know where the mouse is based on which cupboard or appliance Shadow has camped out in front of which means there are days that I'm terrified to approach the stove or the refrigerator or the sink, but the cat is happy so I guess I am, too.
P.S. I am posting this early on a Sunday morning because I am off to run a half-marathon. This has nothing to do with pet week or anything else, but 13.1 miles is a long way to run and even though I do it incredibly slowly, I feel I deserve maximum credit. Last year, I was the second slowest woman in my age group. It is quite possible that I will be the slowest this year. I don't care. I still want every shred of credit I can get.
This blog was brought to you by Monkey Love, Brenda Scott Royce’s hilarious debut novel about love, odd jobs and odder pets.
Posted by Eileen at 11:53 AM | Comments (11)
Comments
Heh! This reminds me of the time I woke up with my cat's little grey toy mouse on my pillow and then I realized that my cat didn't HAVE a little grey toy mouse and totally freaked out all day long. Trust me, it's better under the sink than a gift on your pillow. ;)
Posted by: Lani ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://www.literarychicks.com/nav-commenters.gif)
at February 5, 2006 4:47 PM
Ewwww!
Posted by: Eileen at February 5, 2006 5:37 PM
Go, YOU!! A half marathon is a big accomplishment!! I ran the one in Indianapolis that was the day before the Indy 500, and we ended up on the track. It was awesome (except for the part where it was hot and humid and I nearly died of heatstroke).
hugs,
Alesia
Posted by: Alesia Holliday at February 5, 2006 9:29 PM
Ah, it was sixty degrees and sunny here. Perfect running weather. Well, it was a little windy, but still pretty darn gorgeous for the first weekend in February.
And you go girl yourself!
Posted by: Eileen at February 6, 2006 12:14 AM
My sister's cats (called Mr Darcy, because he is an aristocat amongst cats, and Saffron after Saffy in Absoultely Fabulous) regularly bring her dead birds and dead mice and dead frogs as presents, euck. Once, they brought a dead squirrel! Be thankful that your mouse is alive :-) And go you on the marathon!
Michelle C
Posted by: Michelle C at February 6, 2006 6:38 AM
I am extremely grateful that so far all Shadow has done is watch whereever Mr. Mousey is hiding. Clearly, he is a big Fraidy Cat. I'm happy to have him stay that way and not bring me any special trophies he's killed just for me.
Posted by: Eileen at February 6, 2006 11:47 AM
How did the marathon go???
Posted by: Whitney at February 6, 2006 12:43 PM
Reasonably well. We finished in 2 hours and 40 minutes (give or take). I think I screwed up our official time by stopping to hug my running buddy, my kids, my fiance, my running buddy's kid and husband, my sister, our other faster running buddies and their kids and their husbands, etc., etc.
Twelve minutes miles might be a nightmare for someone else, but spread over thirteen miles, it's dandy for me.
The only really bad moment came during mile 12 when my shoelace came untied and I discovered that my legs were so stiff that bending down to re-tie it was nearly impossible.
Posted by: eileen at February 6, 2006 1:55 PM
Go you, on the marathon. The mere idea of it horrifies me. \;+)
Before I moved, my cat used to bring me presents. Only these presents were very much alive. Every time it rained, she was outside bringing wet little mice in and dropping them either at my feet or on my bed. EEEEK!
Then I noticed that she made a very distinctive sound as she came in, mouse-in-mouth, sort of an I'm talking with a mouthful of mouse sound. So, I could prepare myself to grab it before its little paws hit the floor/blanket. It got to be quite a process, once she found a large family of mice. I think her record was a dozen in about two hours, assuming, of course, she wasn't just bring back the same ones I had returned to the "wild."
Thank goodness she doesn't do that here. :G:
Posted by: ZaZa at February 6, 2006 3:40 PM
Ooo--that is so weird! I had a white Manx cat named Hop Along Cassidy, "Cassidy" for short, that would self-mutilate! She would start scratching at her neck until it bled. Yes, I HAVE tried bandaging a cat--it's a marathon sport in itself! Is Shadow strictly an indoor cat? I finally had to let Cassidy be an indoor-outdoor cat against my better judgement--busy roads, etc--because she just went crazy if she couldn't go out... She was a bully and beat up all the cats in the neighborhood and one day she just disappeared. I think a neighbor thought she was a feral cat (we had some in the back yard behind us) and trapped her and took her for a ride. No one ever 'fessed up to it, however, so I guess I will never know...
Posted by: Sheri at February 7, 2006 6:26 PM
Shadow's strictly an indoor guy. He got out about a month after the whole self-mutilation thing stopped and I was furious. I kept thinking that I'd spent about $2000 in vet bills on the cat and it would be just my luck to have him run over by a car after all that.
Posted by: Eileen at February 7, 2006 7:16 PM
