Yesterday afternoon Vivian came running up from the basement and breathlessly told me that she saw a bug. “Ok honey,” I said, grabbing the paper towels, “show me where you saw it.” She didn’t want to go. She made me carry her and squeezed me tighter and tighter as we got closer to the couch where she saw the “bug.”
It was nowhere to be seen.
“What did it look like honey?”
“Well, it had four legs and a hump for a body.”
“What you are describing here sounds kind of like a mouse so let’s get the hell out of here,” is what I would have said if I really wanted to skeeve an already slightly skeeved little girl.
And maybe it isn’t a mouse. But Vivian and I decided to go back upstairs while the other girls stayed in the basement to straighten up.
Not two minutes later, Eva screamed, like shrieked, and came running upstairs cry-screaming, “A mouse!”
At which point I could no longer contain my horror and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Get the cat, get the cat,” while the girls followed my lead and screamed and ran in circles.
I found the cat and threw her down the stairs and started for the safety of higher ground. Like when we were kids and we could only walk on furniture because the ground was lava, but in this case I was sure every step would result in my bare foot landing on a furry ball of ick.
The cat immediately came back upstairs through the cat door. Stupid cat. I picked her up again and decided to bravely venture a little further into the basement before tossing her in. And that’s when I saw it, the “bug” with four legs and a hump for a body a long tail and of course not a bug at all. This time the cat saw it too and went after it! Good cat. Sorry I called you stupid.
My next move, like any modern, self sufficient woman, was to hide in my bed under the covers and have my husband handle the problem.
But curiosity got the best of me and I bravely approached the basement as far as the top step, to check on the progress of mission, “Help Dumb Cat Kill Mouse.”
It wasn’t going well. Husband and son would flush out the mouse and cat would barely notice and stay poised, staring at a wall where the mouse obviously was not. To which I verbally abused my poor kitty saying, “You are the worst, the absolute worst. And you are the worst $90 I ever spent!”
Unfortunately we had to leave the cat to her own devices. I blocked off the cat door securely with a pillow and we headed out to do some errands to get ready for company that evening. Oh, and also to get mouse traps.
Our guests arrived and we let them know the unfortunate news about our newest house guest and our worthless cat and as we were trading stories about critters getting into houses, my cat busts through the pillow barrier with a dead mouse in her mouth, like it was no big deal, takes it over to her food bowl and drops it.
Ummmm ew! But also, yay! But mostly ew.
So I guess this post is for my cat. Who is now my hero. I feel the need to publicly apologize for all the the terrible things I said. So, I’m sorry Squeak. You are the best $90 I ever spent.