Nope. I get back and the two cats are staring behind the immense wardrobe that I cannot move. I give up and go to bed.
Five times in the night I am awakened by cat-chasing-mouse scamperings. Five times I fail to catch the mouse. Five times I glare at the cats.
Today I was sitting peacefully in my dining room and lo! the mouse wanders past me, past two dogs, and past one cat, crawls under the recliner chair and disappears into its innards.
I need new high-efficiency cats.
5 comments:
WHOOPS? NOT QUITE DEAD?! AUGH! I can't even imagine. That gives me the heebie jeebies just reading the sentence! You, my dear, never cease to amaze me. ;>)
Oh Tami. You probably don't want to hear about the time our goat died in my arms at the vet and we had to take his body home in the back of the car, one person to each pair of legs . . . one small wiggly mouse is really not that bad.
Dulcie often brings us little presents. Even though she is 15 years old with a bad leg, she hasn't lost her touch. I try to save those I can. I find a half pint beer mug, (with handle) and a long wooden spoon are invaluable tools.
Yea. That's what Shad, the vet, says. He makes fun of me all the time. He thinks its funny to watch me turn green as he tells me about his latest surgical cases. I really don't think of myself as a girlie-girl (Honest, I'm a tom-boy) but when it comes to rodents and wasps, you can definitely count me out! :)
Yes, that is my technique too Judith.
Tami, you married a vet? Good planning!! Oh, and I don't do spiders at all. AT ALL. HATE THEM HATE THEM HATE THEM.
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