Yesterday, Miss Crankypants’ dear husband had to set out a mouse trap. She simply could not bear to kill poor Mr. Stuart Little, who must have found his (her?) way into the house when one of the Criminal Cats left the patio slider ajar.
Miss CP remembers the time she got up at 3AM and found one of aforementioned kittehs batting an innocent vole around the kitchen, a real game of cat-and-mouse. She thought fast and managed to grab the rodent by its tail and sling (oh yes, she slings!) it out the door. Kitteh pouted for a week.
Then there was the time she lived in a house with a cat door, which was supposed to keep cats from waking her in the night to be let out, in, or out again. Miss Cranky heard a ruckus, flipped on the kitchen light and promptly flipped out. A hideous oppossum bared its teeth and hissed (hissed!) right at her. Miss CP screamed, which worked better than a hiss–the ‘possum bolted out the cat door from whence it came. The cats just stood around laughing.
The Mouse du jour was just as cute as the vole, but not nearly as repulsive as a ‘possum. Miss CP pled for its little mousy life, asking, “Can’t you just catch it by the tail and sling it?”
Hubby shook his head. Nope.
She tried another angle. “But that mouse could be the next Stuart Little!” Indeed, talking meeses would probably propel Miss Cranky to super-author status. All she had to do was to find a teensy motorcycle for him. No, wait. That was a different story. Apologies to Beverly Cleary.
Miss Cranky tried one last time. “We could let the mouse out from behind the china hutch and then let one of the Criminal Cats catch it again, take it away and sling the mouse out the door.” She pictured husband slinging like a champion.
No dice.
It is Miss CP’s unfortunate duty to inform you and all her Criminal Cats that our dear Stuart Little has gone to mouse heaven, should that sort of thing actually exist. She will spare you the details, but doesn’t it make you wonder?
The world has a thousand ways to kill you but only writers seem to be interested in anthropomorphizing rodents so that they ride teensy motorcycles.
A writer somewhere is probably this very minute writing about a mouse chapter of Hell’s Angels, who are planning a world takeover.
A word to the wise: Sharpen your slinging skills. When the mice invade, they’ll be wearing tiny black leather jackets, sport a lot of tattoos and have a cat-shaped axe to grind. Try holding THAT tiger-striped kitty by the tail.