Who Knew?

Ok, so I had this hair-brained idea to go all out and market my blog…even posted a hideous video of me chasing a dead (or semi-dead) mouse out of the house. But, guess what I learned today? I am not the wizard of laying out a blog so that it makes sense and you can easily find posts to read. Who knew that there’s some kind of computer jargon code that I would need to know to be able to move it around like I really, really want to do. Also, who knew that to truly customize it and start making money off my stories that I would be asked to shell out $300 to start that process? (I’ll be starting my GoFundMe page shortly.) Whew. This really takes it out of a girl. Especially one that has lost a few hours of sleep from the night before. Why? Why might you ask? Well, it’s all because apparently, Mousepacalypse isn’t over.

It was at 2 am, or somewhere near that beautiful hour of the morning that the latest victim in the mouse war was taken. Yes, I’ve told the story on my Facebook page. Yes, you’re going to hear some of it again. But, you truly have to know some of the back story to truly appreciate the fact that I should have known that something was awry in my “mouse-free kingdom.” Let’s go back to Saturday night before bed to when the boys let some of the cats inside, mainly Onion and Cooney. Yes, we have a cat named Onion. He’s an orange and white cat with wild eyes and even wilder inside cat manners. That really translates into NO inside cat manners. You’re probably thinking who names a cat Onion? I would have wondered too, and he did have another name prior to Onion. But, Onion stuck when he was caught on the deck eating an entire onion. Who knew that cats ate onions? Anyways, back to the story…Cooney and Onion kept wanting to get into my bedroom but I refused to allow it. I assumed they wanted to go in there and use my bed for their litter box. They would walk through the house but always circle back to my bedroom door. Cooney would whine and try to coax us into letting him in there. But, I wouldn’t give in. Who knew that I really do have mouse-detecting cats? And, who knew that we still had a mouse problem?!?!?
I would like to think that perhaps this was a lone mouse that longed to get out of the rainy weather. I would like to believe that he (or she) was the only four legged rodent (besides the stuffed squirrel) that was lurking inside my home. But, I believe that’s wishful thinking. They’ve gone into “mouse underground” and they’re plotting their comeback now as I type. That’s why I haven’t seen glimpses of something out of the corner of my eyes! They waited until nightfall to make their first move, which brings me to my 2 am experience.

I was asleep, quite peacefully I might add, until the loud snap. And, then the scratching noises combined with mouse whimpers. I knew immediately what it was, although I wanted to be in denial for just a little while. Briefly, I hoped that it was some kind of animal fight outside on my bedroom deck. I would settle for the Chubacabra paying a visit if I didn’t have to combat mice again. But, as I slowly awoke from my slumber, it was evident that my hopes would be dashed. I nudged Brian, and he grunted. Sweetly, he got up out of the bed and disposed of the mouse in his usual flair. He asked for gloves, but all I had to offer were food-style latex gloves from the kitchen. Those just wouldn’t do. What size of beast would require something more? He went outside at 2 am-ish in nothing more than his blue boxers and a pair of camoflage Crocs to retrieve a pair of welding gloves. Who knew that you needed uninsulated, tig welding gloves to retrieve a three-inch mouse from the bedroom floor? Why, I’m sure his fangs must have been five inches long! Nope. There were no fangs on this tiny little creature, but the fear of being mouse-bitten at 2 am was real.
He threw the mouse outside for the cats to either consume or play with, neither of which I wanted or needed details. When he came back to bed, he wanted to tell me the story of how the mouse tried to escape. Still with the covers over my head, I rushed him back to bed. I don’t know how the covers would have protected me from any more mouse attacks, but I was prepared just in case.

The cat came in the house the next morning with a smirk on her face. I could have sworn that she walked by my bedroom door and shook her head as if to scold me for not letting her in my bedroom. I will say this, the next time that she-devil of a cat and her friend Onion want to get into any room of this house, I’m opening the door with a curtsy and letting them have a mouse appetizer. Who knew?