I opened another drawer, and out jumped this:
A rodent creature from the depths of hell.
Well, ok. I exaggerate a little. But, dang it, when you open a drawer and this thing leaps up out at you and then shoots at warp speed into the back of the cupboard, you too would scream like the first teenage slut to die in a horror movie.
You know you would.
I know I did.
I've reset the mouse traps and put all delicious things into hard containers or the fridge. If any little monsterous mouse decides to come out from their secret passageways, I've told Miss Vida the House Cat to seek and destroy. I've also told her to either eat what she catches or leave it for the dogs, but under no circumstances is she to bring it upstairs to my bed. That is just unpleasant.
The last one, she left dead in my slipper. A cold squishy mouse in your shoe is not a nice thing for your bare foot to find in the dark of early morning.
You know you'd scream about that, too.
Ha ha, I had to laugh. There was a batch of baby mice in my utility room once, and the cats kept killing them, but left them for me to deal with. And the barn cats won't eat the dead ones for me either. They like to play with them first.
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