A Tale of Two Kitties

A little over two weeks ago, my dark and long-haired Lucy jumped down from the couch and took off for the kitchen. I heard her maneuver through the curtains to the window sill where she proceeded to chatter up a storm. I thought the sparrows were out there flying in and out of the eaves. As I walked in to peek at the goings on, I saw her shadow, through the shears, darting back and forth across the sill; stretching and reaching up each side of the window. Then I caught sight of something brown moving along the ivy that is draped over the rod. I had Starlings in the walls a couple of years ago [try catching three of THOSE to take back outside!], so-- I'm thinking a sparrow got in the house. NOT!

I catch another glimpse of movement and saw a tail [not one sporting feathers] and whiskers gyrating about. When it looks right at me--through those little dark bulgy eyes--I'm thinking, 'I've paid eighty-some dollars for those electronic apparati to keep you and your kind out.' I'm also thinking I may as well go ahead and pull the darn things from the outlets and save a little more on my electric bill. Because they’re obviously NOT WORKING.

ANYway, I said, “GOOD G-I-R-L, LUCE! Good G-i-r-l!”

Then I’m thinking, now I’ve got to catch the little bugger. Since the kitchen became somewhat the catch-all room throughout the spring-clean season, I didn't have far to reach for a box to snatch it up. My first and only attempt failed; with the mouse losing it's footing. It fell. Where? Both Lucy and I looked. And looked. She had a bead on it once then-- nothing. I hadn't seen it move across the floor, so I figured it came up through the furnace vent--just underneath the window--and scurried back down. So I closed it off and thought I'll call the landlord. Later.

Well, with recent health concerns and other Life moments happening, I totally forgot about: The Mouse. What I couldn't forget is the look on Pearl’s face [she’s my short-haired tuxedo kitty] when I caught sight of her as I lavished her sibling with all that, “You’re-such-a-good-mouser!” praise. I knew I needed to do something to make amends. And it couldn't involve anything even remotely resembling false praise because she'd see right through it. Fear not though, My Pearl had her day. Though not before Lucy had another valorous go at: The Intruder!

I'm on disability for degenerating discs, so whatever the activity was that strained my back [week ago Sunday; aside from trying to catch a mouse] it made me go for the full regimen of drugs and landed me on the couch for several hours of uninterrupted sleep. When I woke, I found Lucy sitting like a statute on the arm of the big chair that sits in front of the living room window; staring at--of all things--the curtains. She never sat there. And not like that. I don't remember what I said, but she wouldn't budge or even look away. Then I noticed the intense look on her face.

Enter: The Mouse.

I walked over to lift up and look under the valance panels and there it sat at the very top on the drapery rod. Peeking right at me over the ruffles . ‘It's BACK!’

Well, before I could think [Becasue no! I hadn't come up with a good amends yet.], I'm saying, “Good Girl, Luce!” Yeap! I knew as soon as I said it. As I head to the kitchen to get the box I know I'm in– j-u-u-u-s-t that much deeper –with Pearl. Who, as it happened, sat there watching her sister and me.

When I got back, Lucy still sat there like a dog on point; with a mouse clearly in her sights. I stepped up on the chair, reached for and snagged the little devil. It struggled to get away. Lucy moved in. I saw the fear in its eyes. The Mouse is afraid! Lucy clawed at the drapes. The Mouse wiggled free. ‘DANG!’ Lucy lunged to the floor and: The Chase was on.

There's a flurry of activity that I can't get to— Pearl finally makes her move. Lucy cornered it. No-- She had it trapped under her body. Her plume of a tail twitched. Pearl clearly tried to figure, 'what can I do?' There's another flurry and Pearl rushed in. Then– Lucy emerged with: The Mouse, dangling in humiliation by it's own tail; held tight in my good mouser's mouth.

Lucy trotted straightaway toward the kitchen. I followed immediately after thinking, 'And you're going to do exactly WHAT with it when we get there?'

I didn't get the chance find out. Lucy lost her grip and the little brown devil darted toward and through the open laundry room door. ‘DANG again!’ I watched it scurry under the washer and dryer. I hurried in and closed the door so it couldn't circle back out. It's a small room. And yes, I stood there with Lucy saying, “It’s alright, Luce! We’ve got it.” And just as I offered a reassuring, “You’re a good mouser, Lucy!” I gave thought to turn and open the door.

There was Pearl. Sitting quiet and still and very much alone. When she lifted up those beautiful cow eyes, the look on her face said, 'Yes! I heard every word- through the door you closed.’

Without the slightest hesitation and in a ‘where-ya-been?’ voice, I said, “Get in here, Misskins!”

A shabby save at best, I admit, but she hurried in, tail held high and I closed the door behind her. But all we could really do was wait. There's no way these days, for me to move around those heavy appliances, so– I simply resolved to let it [The Mouse] exit on its own risk. I'm thinking by now its got to have a pretty fair idea of what its just let itself in for– and, I needed to go lay down. Again.

The next day [being Monday last] I had some pesky computer trouble to deal with and called my tech support pretty much first thing in the morning. I finally hung up the phone after an horrendous five hours and six different people later; all of whom failed the, 'This-is-not-rocket-science!' Test. Meaning, my problem never got totally resolved. Regardless, I called for Pearl [as she's my meditation kitty] and headed to the bedroom to meditate myself out of the terrible mood the whole morning and its business put me in.

I sat down. Put on my headphones. Got the neck roll just right. ‘Breathe in-- Breathe out ...’ Pearl jumped up and into my lap. She walked up a way and gifted me with a much-needed nose kiss. She moved to settle in; kneaded a little. Purred a little. I drifted and went to that safe and comfortable place– All was well and good with the world– I willingly lost track of the time– And,

Enter: Pearl. And: Her Due!

I felt Pearl stir in my lap. I opened my eyes as she jumped to the floor and bolted across the room to the window. I figured the birds were flying in and out of the eaves so I got up slowly from the chair and walked over to see the goings on. She'd jumped up and sat in the sill but stared, intently, at the back side of one of the curtain panels. Just as I figured it didn't have anything to do with birds, I saw: The Shadow. There it sat... ‘No ...’ hung in a fold of the panel. Very slow– I pulled at the panel– and peaked around– ‘It's BACK!’ All I could see was its little mousy fur on its little mousy backside.

“Good GIRL, PEARL! Okay ... Don’t move.” She didn't.

“Don’t let IT move.” She didn't.

“Let me go get ...”

Okay, the box was downstairs in the kitchen and I did NOT want to go all the way down and have to come back up again. Think, think, think ... I found a tin in my studio office and pulled off: The Lid. I took a deep breath, ‘this is going to have to do,’ and went back for: The Next– (((‘NO!’))) No, no, no! I went back for: The Final Round.

When I got back Pearl still sat on that sill like a dog on point; with a mouse–mere inches away–dead in her sights. I moved slow but confident. I took the base of: The Tin around and behind: The Shadow. I took: The Lid over my side of: The Curtain Panel. ‘I GOT IT!’ And Pearl knew it. ‘Yea, but now what do I do?’ I'm standing there with a Mouse Sandwich and no one to help me out of it.

Just then I saw: The Tail flip about; j-u-s-t outside of: The Crust. 'Think, think, think ...' I decide to slide: The Sandwich down toward the floor. There’s no way to slide it to the right or left. It’s a leverage thing. It’d be QUICKER ... But, Pearl has yet to be trained in Advanced Curtain Wrangling and the two hands I’ve already got were occupied with a potential victory!

So. I start to pull: The Sandwich downward. All while keeping: Said Mouse inside of: Said Sandwich. By the time I got rather awkwardly to my knees, Lucy arrived. While she got herself up to speed on the current goings on: The Hem of: The Curtain Panel was but a few inches away.

Mouser One and Mouser Two began to circle around; both ready to pounce if– (((‘No ifs!’))) I stopped momentarily to make sure: The Fold opened up and released: The Mouse into: The Tin. Done! ‘I'm almost there!’ I maneuvered over the dreaded: Decorative Stitching of: The Hem– and then: 'VOILA!!!!'

The Mouse ... is in ... The Tin!

I took another good look and shook the curtain panel, then turned to Pearl and said, “You’re a good mouser, My Pretty Girl! Thank you, Pearl!”

She looked so proud. I was so proud! She sniffed at: The Prize and I got to my feet. I shook: The Tin [I promise only a little] just to make absolute sure I hadn't trapped mere air and once satisfied, I headed down the stairs.

As I opened the back door to take and release our little intruder back where it belongs [into the great wide open] I said, “I do hope you think about this a good time or three before you try to find your way back in here again!”

Time will tell. With that said, I pulled off: The Lid and gave: The Mouse a little toss into the freshly mowed Spring grass. It sat there for a moment; thinking 'DANG!' no doubt. Its little whiskers wavered and shimmered with the sun light. I did think its tail's looked a little more worse for the wear and as it moved and started to head back my way I said, "Don't be an idiot!” I walked over, scooped it back up and took it farther out.

Once back inside, I found my girls patiently waiting. "Is it time for Snackies?"

And yes! I'm going to pull those electronic gizmos out of the walls. Come June, I'll have lived in this townehome for three years. As I went about setting up house, I saw what I thought might be: Evidence of Mouse. But I simply could never bring myself to lay and bait one of those traps. I just thought the electronics [which are meant to disturb and keep them at bay] more humane. I don't want to mutilate and/or kill them. I just don't want them inside. Besides, now that I know my girls are not just a couple of pretty faces– I'd rather spend that little bit of extra money on a cat toy or two!

Many blessings, L.L.