Mouse safari

Both my housemate and I talk to ourselves, mostly of the "Now, where did I leave (fill in the blank)" variety. Thus Sunday night when her voice took on not actually hysteria, but an unsual tense tone, I went downstairs to investigate.

Munchkin was chasing a mouse around the living room. In an effort to be humane (mousemane) we grabbed the cat and put her outside the living room and tried to rescue said mouse. Having lived for many years with my daughter's cat who regularly presented living mice to me, including once dropping one into my cereal, I considered myself a fairly good mouse rescurer. It is nice to know I can still be humbled by things beyond my control.

My housemate and I were the Tom(asinas) in a Tom and Jerry cartoon with the mouse out-smarting us at every turn. First behind the shrank, behind the television, behind the CD holder, behind the sectional couch and back again. We would swear he went left and find him right. We turned over all the pieces of sofa onto the rug (not a recommended decorating scheme). Once we had a chance, but he nestled himself in electric cords making the towel we threw over him ineffective. We would bend down (not our most picturesque moments) to stare where we thought he might have gone...Nothing, Nada, Niet...

Well past bedtime, we gave up, let the cat back in and went to bed behind closed doors.

The story does not have a happy ending for the mouse. My housemate cleaned up a small amount of mouse intestines the next morning.

Sigh... We tried.