I actually feel bad for this little rodent bastard. A little. Not much, but a little.

I got up this morning and walked to the bathroom, ya know like ya do. Both cats were in there just hanging out. That’s odd. Something is up. Lily was just sitting on the floor mat. Robin was investigating something near one of the towel racks. I couldn’t see what she was after. At least not until I looked up. On the shower curtain rod, right in the middle, was a mouse. Just sitting there. Calmly surveying all around him. Oh no you don’t, you home invading fucker!

I had my iPad with me. I used it to swat the mouse off the curtain rod. I hoped the cats would take it from there, but they ran away in abject terror. Chickens. The mouse was a little stunned so I threw the floor mat over it and kicked it against the side of the tub. I would have just stepped on the bastard but I was barefoot and we ain’t going there.

I had the little shit trapped for the moment. Was it dead? Did I kill it when I smooshed the mat against the tub? Hopefully, but doubtful. I had nothing to scoop it up with so I figured I would trap it under the waste basket and figure it out from there. I pulled the mat away and tried to drop the basket down but it was too fast and ran into the corner. We went back and forth behind the toilet a little but I was too slow and it made it out of the room.

It ran into Harry’s room. I had it cornered for a second, but when I reached down to pick up a book off the floor to squash it with it managed to run into Harry’s closet and that was all she wrote.

A few hours went by. Jen and I were both logged into work. Her office is next to the bathroom which is next to Harry’s room. I am in the cellar underneath Harry’s room. I could hear the cats running around above me. Jen could hear the terrified little mouse home invader asshole squeaking. I went upstairs to look and found the cats lounging in the doorway to Harry’s room. Just hanging out. Keeping watch.

A few minutes later Jen asked me to come back. The cats had the little prick cornered in the hallway. This time I was wearing shoes and I was able to kick it against the wall. It wasn’t dead, but it was stunned enough for me to grab a broom and a dustpan and a plastic bag and scoop him up. I put him into the bag, took him outside into the pouring rain, and dropped him into the gopher hole, just like the last one that I caught alive.

I do feel bad about kicking it. Just a tiny bit. Not enough to stop me from doing it again. You invade my home, you furry fuck, you get stepped on. Still. I would have preferred a catch and release kinda thing. This was more like a seriously injure, catch, release, and probably die within 10 minutes as something bigger is going to make a snack out of it. Oh well.

Another good job by the cats. They are skilled mouse hunters, though they don’t appear to be terribly skilled at closing the deal, if you know what I mean. I’ve actually had to put an end to each of their mouse hunts. They haven’t gone beyond the play stage yet. At least not that we know of.

I hate mice.