Picture this... I was playing Bejewled on the computer in the living room. Duncan was pawing me and meowing. I said "DUNCAN, NOT NOW!!!" The next thing I know he's playing with his catnipped mouse, swatting it across the floor the way he normally does and then pouncing, except he usually stops after a few swipes. This time it was going on for a while so I stopped to observe.
It was alive... the catnip mouse was alive!!!
It looked just like one of Duncan's toys except it had eyes that moved!!!
It was curled up in a fetal position and then he swiped it again. It rolled and quivered. Duncan picked it up and moved it across the floor and kept playing. I didn't know what to do. That poor mousey. I tried to give Duncan a salmon kibble snack but he wouldn't take the bait. I even shook his catnip container. That usually makes him excited with anticipation, but this time he only paused. He looked at me. He looked at Mousey. He looked at what I was holding. He swatted Mousey again and chased it across the living room floor ignoring the catnip. He was enjoying the moment. No point in getting stoned!
The way he handled that mouse, I wondered how Mousey could possibly still be alive. I had to DO something. I formulated a plan. I took 2 of Logan's poop bags out of my back pocket and doubled them up. I went to the fridge and pulled out some of Duncan's dental treats. I tossed them near Duncan and when he paused for a moment. I scooped up Mousey and put him on the back porch.
Then I felt doubly bad. I had taken away Duncan's pet and there was a mouse suffocating in a poop bag on the back porch. Duncan ate the treats and then looked everywhere for Mousey. I went out back and carefully emptied the bag in the laneway. I figured perhaps the drizzle might revive Mousey and he would live to tell the tale of the Monster Dog Cat... or another neighbourhood cat would cart him off as his own.
Duncan went back to the basement and sat in the bathroom staring at the hole in the wall in the cupboard. It's a fairly large hole. He just sat. I went to the computer and every 5 minutes I went back to check on him. Duncan was still there, just sitting and staring, occasionally glancing up at the ceiling. One time I went back and he wasn't there... nowhere. I looked through the laundry room, the storage room, everywhere. There was no sign and no sound. I figured he must have gone into the hole in the wall.
It was midnight... I was alone! My sweetie is away. How I miss her!!! There was a mouse on death's doorstep lying in the gutter in the back laneway. My cat had disappeared into the tunnels beneath the house. How could I possibly go to bed?!
I lay down and read. Eventually I drifted off. In the middle of the night, I awoke to Duncan licking my face. I remember thinking "Ewww, he had mouse on that tongue" and I pulled him away from my face and we gently snuggled ourselves back to sleep.
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10 comments:
Aw! Did the poor mousey live?
He wasn't there this morning. I like to think he lived to tell of his great adventure.
From 1982 until 2000 we had a mixed collie named Logan, he loved playing with little creatures like that. For about a year we lived out in the deep wilderness, near a village called Dalkeith, and we had a human-planted forest next to us, so the rows were perfectly formed. From the ground Logan would chase the squirrels as they jumped from tree to tree.
Early one night he wouldn't come when we called him, so we thought he was off chasing squirrels. But mom saw him from the kitchen window, and he was throwing something in the air, then pouncing on it as it fell.
What we ended up finding was a very confused pug nosed rabbit, about the size of a tennis ball. From what we could tell he was physically fine. Mentally...
Our cat, Darwin, used to do the same thing with frogs that Logan did with the rabbit. But Darwin always ended up eating half, and leaving half near the front door.
I think your mouse was fine, they're tough little beasties.
So sweet!
It always makes me so happy to read you...
Salted L: That's a great image of your Logan chasing squirrels in a forest of perfectly aligned rows of trees. You almost need a cartoon soundtrack playing in the background. Chasing rabbits and squirrels probably had something to do with him living to a ripe old age of 18. My city dog Logan just turned 11 and his age is starting to show.
Anon: That Duncan is a big ol' sweet puddin' head.
Woodsy: Thanks, you're my favourite wood nymph. Let's the two of us blog more often okay?
Poor Duncan. The mouse was already a goner, you might as well have let Duncan have his fun. (PS: Those little rodents are called "mice" or "mouse" in the singular - not "mousey"... unless you're 5.)
Well XUP, my consultant wasn't here to advise but I figured Duncan could have just as much fun with his toys. I was representing the interests of Mousey and just so you know, I said "Mousey" with a gob of gum in my mouth while standing still on an escalator thinking about how I was going to push the automatic door opener on the door at the entrance of the mall while letting my big ass quiver expectantly waiting for that door to open.... oops sorry, what were you saying?
There is nothing more funner for a kitty-cat than stalking and killing some living critter. Anyway, I thought Duncan's woman was trying to encourage him to keep the mouseys out of her house??
I like the term mousey and that you tried to save the mouse. (I think you did too) If you did not intervene you would be cleaning up mousey bits soon after. Ick. Well done Duncan.
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