Thursday, October 18, 2012

You Got a What? Yeah, We Did.



Yesterday morning while making lunches for the kids, I saw something.  I swear I did.  My peripheral vision has been a gift from God and He has yet to fail me...but maybe this time He did?

 

Out of the corner of my left eye, I saw something dark dart into the pantry.  As I turned my head more to the left side, all I was left to find was the darkened grain of our hardwood floors.  What!  What? Oh Dear Lord WHAT!?

I knew what I had witnessed.  I knew I wasn't imagining what I saw.  And furthermore, I was so convicted that what I saw was not a fallacy.

Yes folks, I'm talking about a mouse. 

I will let spiders crawl up and down my arm all day.  I will wallow in the mud with the fleas, and I will even clean up deceased animals (as long as they're not mine), but what I won't tolerate are mice.  No, I've never had a traumatic experience as a child.  And no, I've never even had a reason to be so deathly afraid of the actually sweet, adorable looking rodents.

Enough of my lack of a back story.  Let's move on.


As I summoned the courage, little to none at this point; I slowly opened the door to the pantry.  As my heart was exploding out of my chest, my blood pressure skyrocketing, and my palms sweating, I snatched up the toaster and tossed on the counter with a bang!  All while trying to slam the pantry door without getting my arm dislodged.

Just as my cardiac levels were resuming back to the normal levels, I realized I eventually had to go back into that same pantry "My Little Friend" was hiding in.  I needed the bread, peanut butter, and honey to complete my task. I had slammed the door too prematurely,  dang it!!


When the kids came downstairs for their morning start, I knew I wasn't going to divulge any of my findings with them.  Can you spell catastrophe?  I kept my secret to myself until they were out of ear and eye shot.

Steve came into the kitchen and I explained what I had witnessed.

"That's it!  We need a cat!" He stated.


Music to Lucas' ears...who was still sleeping, but I'm sure he heard!


As I heard those glorious words, I quickly jumped on Craigslist in search of a free mouse cat...aka: A HUNTER.


I found one.  I spoke with the knowledgeable lady about her abundance of farm cats.  I informed her that I was only in need of one of her cats, not her entire 14 litters.  Steve and I made arrangements to meet our new friend.

After the hour and a half trek out to Adrian, Oregon, yes, Adrian, Oregon, we pulled up to our new cat's home.  A real genuine farm.  Goats, Hound dogs, chickens, horses, cows, and an abundance of flies!  Lucas was in heaven!  There were kittens roaming the grounds of the farm in groves.  Lucas decided to pick up a black, almost weightless kitty, then proceed to kindly squeeze the kittie's neck as to emulate his own form of a guillotine.  Poor kitty let out a cry as I helped release him from a two years old's hands.


We picked out our "hunter" who is a one and a half year old female cat.  Per the owner, she's a great one to have for the mice.  

We shoved her into our Home Depot box, taped it up, allowing for breathing room of course, shut up the car and started to proceed home.

"Uh oh!" Shouted Steve.

Uh oh was right!  Our new cat had escaped out of the box and was now frantically throwing herself against the car's dashboard, windows, and seats.  Meanwhile letting out an unforgettable, low growl...her version of a "meow."  

The farm owner stepped right up to the plate for us.  She wrangled up our cat, tossed her back into the box, re-taped it, and we were off.  We were off all right, but we were scared.  What if this cat got out while we're driving and decides to attack us?  The sound of her growling coming from the box in the back was not comforting one bit.

After our long drive home, countless pull-overs to check to see if she was indeed still alive, and half a tank of gas later, we made it home...not mentally sane though, but we were in one piece.

 

We set up her new home in our garage for the next few days.  Food, water, and a giant box of kitty litter.  We were told it could take her as much as a week to acclimate to her new surroundings.  Our house by no means is a farm in the middle of nowhere.  And by no means does our garage filled with boxes, bikes, and tools resemble her old stomping grounds.  

 

Needless to say, my husband's a Hero with a capital H!! He pulled out our fridge, stove, dishwashers, and drawers in search of where the mouse could have entered from.  Our stove was the main culprit.  Where the gas line comes in from the wall...there was a large hole.  He foamed up the problem, set a trap in the pantry, and we all headed out to visit our new friend in the garage.

We searched the entire garage.  Up, down, left, right, even sideways.  No cat.  Wow, that cat is a great hider I thought.  Or wait!  Did she escape somehow?  While reeling over all of the cat's possibilities, Julie cries out, "I found her!"

She was hiding on top of a tool box.

Steve crouches down and in his very "non hero/manly voice," says,

"Oh kitty, pretty kitty.  It's okay sweet kitty.  Oh, she's actually really cute...look at that face."


Okay, what the hell?  What the f**ck rather!  Where's my Steve?  Who took over my studly man?  And what just came out of his mouth?

I stared at him. Rather, I  gave him the look of death and fear...thank God his peripheral vision isn't as splendid as mine.  I ended up giving off a radiant smile.  I just witnessed a man who DESPISES cats, hates them, but yet he's speaking to our new friend this way?  I could only chuckle at this point.


We couldn't coax our friend out.  She was having too much fun listening to my husband's voice and tone I'm sure.  She decided to stay put in hopes that he'd say sweet little nothings to her all night.


We came inside and Steve set up a mouse trap inside the pantry for the night's killing.  When we awoke this morning, our rodent had tasted peanut butter as his last meal.  Thank God!  Steve disposed of the little one's carcass...no Taps was played while in the process, and he kissed me goodbye as he set out to reclaim his title as a studly man/ Hero...aka: going to work.


For now, we'll let Lily settle in to her new surroundings.  Let's hope she comes around...sooner than later.

 

P.S. I'll post a picture of Lily as soon as she comes out from hiding.

2 comments:

  1. I knew it would happen sooner or later...the seed of a cat would nurture and grow...didn't think a mouse would preempt the acquisition. Good reason to get a mouser, me thinks! Good luck and don't change the kitty litter while you're pregnant. I had a cat once named Lilly, and my neighbors have one named Lily also...good choice. See you Saturday!
    ~Sarah

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  2. I actually never thought Steve would budge, but stranger things do happen. :) Lily seems to be a good name...all around. Thanks for the litter advice and yes, looking forward to seeing you Saturday!

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