It is Funny Friday – the day I tell you about the stupidity in my life – things we need to laugh at or we would just be too hard on ourselves.  But before I share my issues with mice – I need to share some pictures (remember, I am the world’s worst at photography) of what is going on in our zinnia patch this morning.

It is monarch migration time I am sure… primarily because the “traffic” has picked up in our yard. I have noticed them all week, but today, there seemed to be several making the rounds in our little raised bed of zinnias.  I share these just for you to enjoy – no commentary needed. BTW, you can click on the picture to make it larger.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mice….

 

As a city girl, I am sure we had mice, I just never saw them or heard anyone talk about them. Rats were a different story – not at my house, but in the city, the rat population can be overwhelming.  Anyway…

 

We had a cat

 

His name was Kingsford – like the charcoal – because he was gray. (We also had a dog named Jelly Bean  -JB for short, and another dog named Oreo ‘da Cookie – we have issues with food and pets)  Kingsford was a house cat. And by house cat, I mean he was mostly in the house – he ventured out around the house but knew where he lived. On many occasions he showed me his love by bringing me a mouse to play with.

He was trained to NEVER, and I mean NEVER, to be on a table or counter.  There is nothing more disgusting than cat paws, you know where they have been, on the surface of where food is prepared or eaten.  He tried to be on the counter as a young cat, but I “swiped” him off with such a vengeance that he learned pretty quickly to avoid that area of the house.

 

My DH was away at a conference.

 

I was home with three young ‘uns.  I have trouble going to bed when he is away – so I typically work on projects until the wee hours of the morning.  Such was the case this evening.  As I was in the kitchen – and as I write this I shiver – a mouse scurried along the back of the countertop, behind my canisters.

I sucked air.

I backed away.

I wanted to scream for my husband… he might have heard me in the next state where he was sleeping!

But, alas, I was on my own.

 

Then it hit me!  

 

No, I was not on my own – I have a CAT!  A cat who was peacefully asleep, as any good cat would be at 2 AM.  I slowly, backed out of the kitchen, to get my killer kitty. I now was thinking of him as my rescuer, my deliverer, my murderer…. I scooped him up and creeped back into the kitchen, where said mouse was stupidly still sitting behind my canisters. What mouse waits around?

 

Anyway, I spoke encouraging words to my little cat and put him on the counter saying “get the mouse!”.  He stood there for a second, the mouse twitched, Kingsford saw his “present” and then looked at me, frozen in the spot, as if to say “hey stupid – I am not allowed on the counter” and jumped off.! I picked him up again and whispered to him that “this time I will make an exception – this time you are allowed on the counter” and put him back up there. Now the mouse is watching us with amusement.  Kingsford looks at the mouse with longing in his eyes, back at me and simply cannot bring himself to remain there – even for the treat of a mouse. Off he jumps.  I am really agitated at this point, and I firmly pick him up, sternly tell him to “get that mouse” and throw him on the counter. And seriously, the stupid mouse is still just sitting there. He looks one more time at that rodent, looks at me with a disgusted expression and jumps and runs off into the house to hide! Mouse looks up and scurries away to I have no idea where because as soon as he moved, so did I!  That thing is probably still living in that house, 20 years later!

 

Because an encounter with one house mouse is never enough – a number of years later, in a different house, mouse number two enters the scene. This time taking up residence in our kitchen pantry – which is right next to the garage door.  This one I hear rustling around in there in my chip bags and potato bowl.  This time my warrior husband is home – as are all four children.  This time I scream for help. This time I get help.

 

But not without some discussion as to how to effectively catch this thing that we can all see (and hear) as we peer around the corner into the pantry.  We don’t want it running straight out into the kitchen and potentially lose it in the house. Aha!  A plan emerges…

 

My resourceful hubby, goes out to the garage to secure his weapon of choice.  He brings it back into the house, with all of us watching and waiting to see how he will protect his family. He plugs this mouse trap in and heads into the pantry.  We all back away. We don’t want to be in the way. We want the mouse trapped!

 

After a some noise, some rustling around and some quick movement – he announces “I got him!!” We all cheer!!! The mouse is trapped, the mouse is trapped!! My hubby and the father of our children is our hero!!!  

 

You might be asking – how did this mouse hunter catch his moving target?

 

I will tell you – he sucked him up into his shop vac! I am not kidding! In the shop vac!  So now the question is… is the rodent dead or alive in the bottom of the vacuum?  I didn’t  stick around to find out.  But just this week, many years after this occurrence, our 20 year old remembered this adventure with some laughter and informed me that the poor little guy was killed instantly because the suction broke his neck.  

 

There you have it – the best mouse trap on the market – invest in one today, as the little things are getting ready to try and invade our homes as autumn is upon us.
Laughter – it really is the best medicine!