Captain Blood is under my fridge
(X-posted from xanga, for all of you who've abandoned it.)
I hate mice. I truly despise them. Wild mice, that is, not cute little stupid domesticated ones that I feed to my snake at school. They're cute. I dislike the wily, disease carrying, high jumping, poop leaving little bastards.
I got up early this morning (thanks to some jackass decision that we need to have a meeting before school starts) and went into the guest bathroom (G was showering in ours). I noticed a few bits of what resembled mouse poop on the floor by the door. I said aloud "we have a mouse" feeling very observant and Sherlock Holmsey.....before noticing that both cats were gathered around the bathroom door, intently peering upwards. The f*#%er was on top of the door looking all buggy eyed and helpless. The kitties looked expectantly at me then at the mouse and I knew what I had to do...shake the little shit off the door so that the kitties could shred him.
I grabbed the door handle and jerked the door, imagining the mouse would fall helplessly into the dagger-like clutches of the cats. That is not quite what happened. Instead the little shit balanced on the moving door like a tiny Cirque du Soleil performer, then leapt from towel to shower curtain before finally scrambling into the tub. I thought for SURE Mizmar would have him then....how would a mouse get out of a slippery bathtub?
But no...wild mice can jump. Really freakin' high. After just one or two attempts (while dodging Mizmar, who was looking pretty outmatched now), he cleared the rim of the tub, went around the toilet, up the towel rack (pursued by a relentless Mizmar), back down across the bathroom floor and finally jumped to catch the hanging towel and was trying to scramble back up to the top of the door via my many hanging bandanas and scrunchies on the back of the door. HOLY S&IT!!! This mouse is Doug Fairbanks (or Errol Flynn, if we go with the personification in this post's title).
He finally dropped to the floor, paused behind the bathroom door, then made a break for it, kitties in hot pursuit, across the hallway and under the refrigerator.
And there he stays, cats sitting vigil.
I hate mice.
I hate mice. I truly despise them. Wild mice, that is, not cute little stupid domesticated ones that I feed to my snake at school. They're cute. I dislike the wily, disease carrying, high jumping, poop leaving little bastards.
I got up early this morning (thanks to some jackass decision that we need to have a meeting before school starts) and went into the guest bathroom (G was showering in ours). I noticed a few bits of what resembled mouse poop on the floor by the door. I said aloud "we have a mouse" feeling very observant and Sherlock Holmsey.....before noticing that both cats were gathered around the bathroom door, intently peering upwards. The f*#%er was on top of the door looking all buggy eyed and helpless. The kitties looked expectantly at me then at the mouse and I knew what I had to do...shake the little shit off the door so that the kitties could shred him.
I grabbed the door handle and jerked the door, imagining the mouse would fall helplessly into the dagger-like clutches of the cats. That is not quite what happened. Instead the little shit balanced on the moving door like a tiny Cirque du Soleil performer, then leapt from towel to shower curtain before finally scrambling into the tub. I thought for SURE Mizmar would have him then....how would a mouse get out of a slippery bathtub?
But no...wild mice can jump. Really freakin' high. After just one or two attempts (while dodging Mizmar, who was looking pretty outmatched now), he cleared the rim of the tub, went around the toilet, up the towel rack (pursued by a relentless Mizmar), back down across the bathroom floor and finally jumped to catch the hanging towel and was trying to scramble back up to the top of the door via my many hanging bandanas and scrunchies on the back of the door. HOLY S&IT!!! This mouse is Doug Fairbanks (or Errol Flynn, if we go with the personification in this post's title).
He finally dropped to the floor, paused behind the bathroom door, then made a break for it, kitties in hot pursuit, across the hallway and under the refrigerator.
And there he stays, cats sitting vigil.
I hate mice.