We bought the house in October. We weren’t going to move in until November. We went out and bought cleaning supplies. We also bought some Decon. The house had sat empty for about a year and October is about the time that the field mice come into the houses.
We still lived in Louisville and throughout the month we made jokes about how we would find out if the cats were mousers or not. We also talked about where to put the Decon so that the cats couldn’t get to it. Since we’re not the type that leave cabinets open we decided one could stay in the master bedroom under the sink. The master bedroom sinks are separate from the bathroom and that’s where the mice come in at. The other we would put under the kitchen sink.
The first night we spent in the house I kept getting woke up by a weird squeaking sound. It wasn’t windy out and I couldn’t figure out what was squeaking. I finally got to sleep and was once again woke up. I held my breath so I could listen to figure out what had woke me up. I let my eyes adjust to the darkness and saw my tabby Dot pawing at the cabinet for the sinks. I got up and went over to the cabinet and heard the mouse scurry away. I bent down and picked Dot up. I gave her scratches and told her she was a good cat. I brought her back to the bed and laid down with Dot. I continued to scratch her until I fell asleep.
That was the mouse that was in the walls. It must have gotten lost when it was climbing up the pipe. It was obviously trying to get under the sink. When we moved in that cabinet door was open a bit so I knew we would need Decon under the sink. We still have Decon there.
We don’t get many mice in the house but when we do I sit and watch the cats chase it through the house. I’ve even gone so far as to leave the screen door open enough so that the poor mouse can run out the door. It works every once in a while.
Even after a little more than a year, with the smell of three cats in the house, we still get a mouse in the house now and again. I was sitting talking to my dad because he called just to see how I was doing and shoot the breeze. I had seen Dot and Autumn by the master bedroom sinks for three days before my dad had called. I knew they were trying to get the mouse.
Well, Psycho Cat (Dot) really does know how to chase mice. I can’t figure out how the mouse got out but I do know it wouldn’t be the first door the cats have opened. She managed to corner the stupid thing under the couch. The couch doesn't sit against a wall or anything, the skirt touches the floor and doesn't let light through so the poor mouse thought it was trapped. Anyways, Dot had most of her under the couch and I hear a mouse squeaking. Dot was trying to get the mouse and I could hear and feel her head hitting the bottom of the couch. The mouse stopped squeaking and Dot comes out from under the couch, shakes her head like a dog as she sits down and looks at me like, "Gimme another one momma." Once it was scared to death she didn't want to play with it anymore, typical cat. So I put my laptop on the table, tell my Dad to hang on, get off the couch, get on my hands and knees, pull the skirt up, reach under the couch and poke the mouse. I pulled my hand back and waited. It was spitty and dead so of course the cat didn't want it. It didn't matter that it was her spit, she was done with it. I reach back under the couch, find its tail and pull it out from under the couch. I stood up, grabbed the phone and said to my dad, "Time to throw dead mouse in the back yard." He responds with, "In the back yard?" I respond with, "I'm not gunna flush it down the toilet and into my septic tank." My dad says "Oh, yeah. That wouldn't be good." My Dad lives in Illinois and is spoiled with a sewer system. So I walk through the kitchen, open the door into the laundry room, unlock the back door, open the back door, open the screen door, throw the mouse in the back yard for the vultures to eat, close and lock the back door, close the laundry room door behind me, wash my hands and go sit back down on the couch. My dad then says, "Was it spitty?" Now I'm laughing my butt off. Between laughs I said, "Of course it was. Dead and spitty equals not a cat toy, don't you know anything?" We laughed.
I knew that Dot and Autumn knew how to chase mice but until Dot actually ‘caught’ one I didn’t realize she knew how. Dot got scratches, hugs and kisses for scaring the poor thing to death. I made sure I washed my hands with antibacterial soap.
Puffy strays and something happens to make him decide he will never run away again. Judged "Outstanding" at the 2013 Writers Digest SPB Awards. Named among the best in family-friendly media, products and services 2019 by the Mom’s Choice Awards®.
