I am currently being held hostage by a 2" mouse. Needless to say, I am very embarrassed by this, but there it is. No one is here to help me. I cannot prop my feet up on the shelf provided because, alas, this is where my enemy is camped. I now have to sit sideways with my feet braced upon the filing cabinet.
A few minutes ago, a customer asked me for assistance.As I helped her and was walking away, I inquired if she was afraid of mice. She immediately responded with a firm No. Well, this was wonderful! I explained to her that I was a mite timid of rodents and since she wasn't, would she be willing to help me capture my little tormentor? She did a full body shudder and told me to hit it over the head with something. I hope she was properly ashamed of being caught in such a blatant lie. I really wanted to smack her over the head with something, but seeing how she was the customer and all....I resisted.
Plan B. I let Nikki inside. He is an indoor/outdoor cat and likes to follow me to work, where he becomes the annoying door greeter. He welcomes the customers, then slips in behind them. I am constantly putting him back outside. Not today my friend! Today is his chance to be something more than a fur ball hacker! Think of the glory, the envy of the stray cats...all he has to do is catch the mouse! With my heart racing, I push Nikki under the counter within 4 inches of the mouse (who is STILL sitting on top of the power bar) I step back, eyes big, breathing shallow but fast...I don't want to see the carnage, yet, I cannot look away....the mouse is unaware of danger because he is sitting with his back to us.( Oh, I know it's unsportsman like, but any mouse worth his salt would KNOW there is a cat right behind! ) Little background on Nikki. He is a very athletic feline. I have seen him rush across the yard, leap into the air and capture a bird. Yes, out of mid-flight. He has brought many a headless ground mole to my front steps. He is the alpha hunter. I have no doubts that he will end this dilemma quickly, almost painlessly. I watch in horror as he....turns his back to the mouse and sits down. They are sitting back to back. Mere inches between them. Both appear to be asleep. Okay. Obviously he didn't see the mouse. I lean forward, pick him up and face him towards the mouse. I try to sit him back down on the shelf with encouraging words of triumph, which apparently weren't appreciated as he turned around and bit me before running off. Disgusted with his lack of enthusiasm for his first job; I put him back outside.
Well, there is no choice. I must sit here until mom returns. Dad would be no help. He saw the brother/sister mouse in the trash can yesterday and swore it had fangs. Extraordinarily long fangs. So I spend the next 2 hours with tingling legs and a numb butt. Mom finally appears and gets right down to business. She puts her hand inside one of our "thank you" bags and reaches down to pick up the mouse. (He hasn't moved) Problem is, he is so tiny that he slips right out of her plastic coated hand. NOW he moves. I make some primal noises while running backwards...mom is telling me how silly I'm being while sticking her head into the darkness under the counter to find the mouse. She has lost him! Nooooo!!! I can't sit here without knowing where he will pop up! She starts pulling boxes and boxes of papers out to see where he went...all I have to do is hold a black trash bag open while she throws old papers away. Which I do, until I look down and see the stupid thing in one of the boxes that she has already gone through. I start hyper-ventilating and screeching while pointing towards the box. Mom calmly takes her BARE hand and picks the mouse up by his tail. The mouse is squealing, I am squealing, and mom is rolling her eyes while she carries it outside.
No comments:
Post a Comment