Does my cat rock or what? Six mice down in a twelve hour period. For ages Muffy kept her disguise as a neurotic, fur shedding, waste of space but when the scuttling hordes threatened she was the plump, fluffy line they dared not cross.
Yes, I'm hopeful that my mouse problem is over; after six yesterday there were no more corpses today and I'm praying that the word has got out in the mouse community that here be dragons. Or at least a murderous cat. To make matters a little more certain I have stuffed a cloth down the hole I think the mice were emerging from. Certain members of my readership (I'm looking at you Herry) implied that I might be overcooking the entire mouse issue. I can't help it, they give me the icks. I assume a house with a mouse is unclean and the presence of six in my own wounded my pride as well as giving me the aforementioned icks.
Still when the call went out Muffy stepped up to the plate and kicked the winning goal. My part in proceedings was to feed her and mangle sports metaphors. Flighty, nervous and deranged even beyond the normal levels for a cat Muffy has been a somewhat problematic member of my household. She wakes me at three in the morning, occasionally with a claw through the eyelid, for breakfast. She has so far vomited on every piece of floor covering in the place (I spend more on carpet cleaner than I do on food) and I have to chase her off my armchair so I can sit in it myself. Then she promptly sits on me. I used to think that was affection but I have come to realise its the chair she likes and she will sit on anyone in it. Nevertheless all is forgiven for Muffy is my white defender.
Yes Muffy is pure white and fluffy but is neither deaf nor pure bred. I'm not sure she's bred at all. Bred seems a rather grand word for the concatenation of feline genes that resulted in Muffy. She is at her best at night when I'm in bed, then she comes and lies next to me. Or on me, generally the hotter the night the more fluffy animal covering I seem to have. Still she is welcome, I'm very fond of my mad cat. I've forgotten what its like to sleep through the night without intrusive paws smacking me about the head and everytime I walk to the kitchen I trip over her as she assumes I'm going to feed her.
When she sits in my lap she purrs like a washing machine and drools like a small waterfall. I'm amazed she doesn't die of dehydration. Whenever I stand up the parts of me closest to Muffy's head are drenched. Now however she has another string to her bow. She is the mouse killer of my dreams. Muffy the Vermin Slayer, somebody should do a tv series.
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It's amazing what a few (already dead) rodents will do to a man's will! This sickening pean of praise for an animal that simply does what its instincts tell it to do but in all other respects is a fluffy white nightmare is appeasement of the most pusillanimous kind. I fully expect to read that you've lost some readily accessible part of your anatomy in the night to its bloodlust.
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