No More Ratatouille
Today my baby girl puppy killed her first mouse. I think this makes her a woman...
It all makes sense now. I got no sleep last night because she wanted to go outside every 2 hours, which is very strange. When I would let her out (thinking she had to go to the bathroom) she would wander around the bushes in the backyard. I didn't have my contacts in, so I didn't see the poor little must-have-been sick mouse behind the bush by the sliding glass door.
In the morning, I let Margot out and she excitedly pounced at something behind the bushes. I heard a squeak and my heart slowed a little. I ran to put on my glasses, looked outside and all I saw was Margot swinging the poor thing around by the tail. She was swinging it around and then letting it go only to bat it around a bit before she swung it around by the tail again. The mouse was getting bloody and trying to just roll over on its back to die and Margot wouldn't let it go, despite my screams for her to get away and go inside. I WAS HORRIFIED and didn't know what to do.
I am not the girl that is afraid of bugs or insects but this mouse thing hit me weird. After it was officially dead and I had put my excited, proud puppy inside I walked in circles around the mouse deciding what to do with the corpse. I knew I couldn't put it in the trash...and I couldn't leave it anywhere where Margot would get to it again...I finally put on latex gloves, picked it up by its tail and threw it across the street into a deserted side-lawn. I felt itchy all over, I hated the whole process!
For hours afterward, I thought about what I could have done to save the mouse. I had a very small window of opportunity to shoo it away somewhere...but then again, it is just a mouse. It is a dead mouse. My baby is all grown up.
It all makes sense now. I got no sleep last night because she wanted to go outside every 2 hours, which is very strange. When I would let her out (thinking she had to go to the bathroom) she would wander around the bushes in the backyard. I didn't have my contacts in, so I didn't see the poor little must-have-been sick mouse behind the bush by the sliding glass door.
In the morning, I let Margot out and she excitedly pounced at something behind the bushes. I heard a squeak and my heart slowed a little. I ran to put on my glasses, looked outside and all I saw was Margot swinging the poor thing around by the tail. She was swinging it around and then letting it go only to bat it around a bit before she swung it around by the tail again. The mouse was getting bloody and trying to just roll over on its back to die and Margot wouldn't let it go, despite my screams for her to get away and go inside. I WAS HORRIFIED and didn't know what to do.
I am not the girl that is afraid of bugs or insects but this mouse thing hit me weird. After it was officially dead and I had put my excited, proud puppy inside I walked in circles around the mouse deciding what to do with the corpse. I knew I couldn't put it in the trash...and I couldn't leave it anywhere where Margot would get to it again...I finally put on latex gloves, picked it up by its tail and threw it across the street into a deserted side-lawn. I felt itchy all over, I hated the whole process!
For hours afterward, I thought about what I could have done to save the mouse. I had a very small window of opportunity to shoo it away somewhere...but then again, it is just a mouse. It is a dead mouse. My baby is all grown up.