The Mouse: Part II

Disclaimer: cute, fuzzy little mammals are harmed in the making of this (mostly) true story.

My day off. I got up around 9:00 am. Around 11:00, I noticed I'd been hearing an odd bumping noise most of the morning, and couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. I swore there were squirrels in the garbage cans outside. Finally, I looked by the cat food bucket. A lidded coffee can sat nearby. A noisy lidded coffee can. I suddenly wished I hadn't fed the cats an hour prior. I also wondered how the hell I missed a noisy coffee can.

Calling the cats into the kitchen, and attempting to keep the dog out, I emptied the prisoner onto the floor. I'll admit to a pang of guilt, which was quickly squashed in the name of nature and war. This mouse was very much alive, and very much caught in the trap.

At first, the cats were intensely curious. Each of them pawed at this curiosity (sans claws), mouthed it, made it squeak once or twice. After a half hour of this terror, the prisoner realized the end was not, in fact, near. To that end, it took off for the living room. This mouse had gumption. Trap and all, once it hit the wood floor of the living room, it was off like a shot.

The novice hunters took off after it, but they were getting bored. The prisoner nearly got away inside the dog's blanket. 'This is going nowhere fast,' I thought, again lamenting feeding them. I replaced the prisoner to his cell, took away the cats' food, and hoped to wait out their stomachs.