Memories: Poor Little Mousey….

Poor little mousey.
Dead little mousey.
Mousey with no head.
I only wanted to play…

I grew up with this snippet of a poem.  I don’t even remember any more of it.  The problem of course is when mousey still has a head.  When mousey is scared witless.  When mousey is trying to hide under your dresser and the kitty REALLY thinks its a fun toy.  When Genkii REALLY is trying to grab mousey to take to Mommy.  Who is happily asleep in bed.

Yes, I woke up one morning at 7am, and Genkii had found a mouse. I was living in my parents’ basement while unemployed and although this was unusual – well mice have the reputation for getting into places they don’t belong for well-deserved reasons.

Genkii had gotten the mouse to my bedroom. I have no idea how. Did he already catch it once? Was it luck that it ran to this room? (I looked later – it’s “exit” was NOT along these walls)

It  was trying desperately to find a “Safe” place.  He caught it at one point and looked up at me.  I know my cat.  He was trying to get it up to mommy.  Fortunately, the thing was squirming like…. well… like a mouse caught by a cat.  It got out of his mouth and dashed beneath furniture.

I had already grabbed my cell phone and called my parents upstairs. They brought down a broom, a dustpan, and a little trashcan. Dad caught the mouse in the trashcan and they took it for release outside. Somewhere far enough away it can’t get back inside (hopefully). I grew up with hunting cats, so this was exactly the procedure I expected (and wanted).

If I had been up, about, and dressed I would have been more OK with these events. In-and-of themselves I don’t mind mice too much.  It really is the fact that Genkii wanted to bring it TO MY BED that made me unhappy. He didn’t (and doesn’t) know how to kill. Do you know how much I would scream like a total girl if I woke up to a mouse running on my face? I’d rather never find out.

When I moved out of my parents basement a few months later, I found a dead mouse in the bottom of a box a few feet from where the cat food was. The mouse was the saddest remains I’ve ever seen – it hadn’t been caught (so to speak) by my cats. It had starved to death.

I love my cat, but he is never going to be a great hunter. He gets confounded by moths and butterflies. But he does love his Mommy and would gladly give them all to me…