I came home today to find my cat sitting proudly on the rug surrounded by the corpses of three, count them three, mice. I live on the third floor for god's sake, where the hell did they come from. Even more surprising than the presence of mice is the fact that my cat which jumps at its own shadow apparently dispatched them. Personally I suspect they had a mutual heart attack at the sight of my feline coward and she arranged them artistically afterwards.
But what are mice doing in my flat? The place isn't that filthy. And three of them!!! (They get an exclamation mark each). I hope this is just a result of our recent storms causing vermin which would otherwise mind their own business in the great outdoors to seek shelter. In the five years I have lived here there has been just one previous mouse incident several years ago and it wasn't followed up. Admittedly if mice you must have then dead ones are the best. They're easier to catch for one thing but I have almost torn the place apart trying to discover where they might have got in.
I'm starting to suspect the cat might have learned how to buy them on e-bay. I'll have to check my credit card statement to see if there are any bills from Mice R Us. In the meantime I can't sit in one place for more than a second without twisting around to see if there is a miniature rodent scuttling along the floor. Please, please, please let it be a aberration which will never be repeated.
Holy shit, another one. While I was typing the preceding the cat has managed to acquire a fourth mouse. I am officially overrun. Time to man the barricades. I'm sitting here wild eyed as I await a furry tide of squeaking death. Apparently I'm passing the time by writing hooks for bad horror movies. I'm clinging desperately to my increasingly threadbare theory that the mice are rain refugees and surely four is all that made it up the plumbing or wherever the hell they came from. I will never laugh at a Tom & Jerry cartoon again. I have to do the washing up and other housekeeping but I don't want to leave the apparent security of my study. I don't like the way the cat which can't keeps its neurotic carcass still for more than a second is just sitting and staring fixedly at a point in the laundry.
Miiiiice, miiiiiiice. If I don't turn up to work tomorrow you know what happened. I've either been eaten by mice or I've caught the black death. Or maybe I was just feeling lazy.
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Neil, what a carry on over a few mice (we'll quite a few, I'll allow, but only mice after all (I hope....)! You should come over here, where Ayako chucks food under the cooker to feed our mice family and then warns me off eating anything 'in case the mice have walked over it'......:-)
ReplyDeleteWhat does amaze me though is how that useless cat manages to catch anything at all. I thought it spent all its time hiding in the roofspace....b ut maybe that gives a clue as to how and where these mice met their ends.....
Six mice now, in 24 hours and hero Muffy has slain them all.
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