Please

Please

Aaaiiieeeeeee!

12 May 2005
Filed under Text

That's the sound of a woman (this woman) putting her hand into the Just Right box and pulling out a well-fed mouse.

We've been living with the mouse (let's call him Eric) for about a fortnight. The cats brought him in through the cat-door and somewhat unhelpfully let him go. He went behind the fridge, leaving little black poo-pellets in the electrics and skirting the mouse-trap with squeaks of glee, and we sort of sat back and hoped he'd die. Occasionally I'd hear him gnawing on something - a raw pasta shell, a chickpea - or scrabbling in the pantry, but I never caught sight of him again until this morning, whereupon I behaved in an uncharacteristically hysterical way, of which I'm most ashamed.

The postscript to this story is that after I flung Eric across the kitchen, he ran under the couch. We lifted the couch, and Wilson ran under, grabbed him, took him outside and mauled him for the better part of an hour. In most circumstances I would have rescued a beast from this awful fate, but today, somehow, I wasn't in the mood. Sophie eventually took pity on him, wrapped him in a teatowel and took him into the lane, where he still lies, dazed and frightened and covered in cat-spit.

Views from the Floor

Mot says:

Tee hee, cat-spit.

Mel says:

Eric. Heh.

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