About Me

Decent wife. Good Enough Mom. (I think, but you’d have to ask my kids.) Sporadic blogger. Crazy person. Chaos Manager. Finder of stray socks and missing shoes. Loves to cook, wishes it wasn’t demanded of her daily. Runs on caffeine.

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

The mouse in the kitchen

Once upon a time we lived in a house that got invaded by mice due to some neighboring construction. We had tried everything under the sun imaginable and googleable, and nothing was working. All along my husband kept saying how we just needed to get a cat. I was always resistant to that because I am not at all a cat person, and we also have a child who is pretty allergic to them. We also had two dogs at this point, one of them being a German Shepard who was still a puppy.

After a while it became clear that we were losing this battle with the mice, so I gave in and we went to a local shelter and adopted a kitten. She was acting crazy, scaling the cage like Spider-Man, so my husband picked her. She was young and tiny, and I swear within the first week of having her she brought me her first mouse.

Because she was so tiny, our vet suggested keeping her separated from our German Shepard for a while to let them get used to each other, because even playing the Shepard could accidentally hurt her. So we kept her downstairs and kept the basement door shut, but they would play with each other under the door all the time. She is a very vocal cat and would always ask to be let up, and we would let her up from time to time to play, but it would get rowdy real quick and we wanted to prevent her from getting hurt.

It didn’t take long for us to stop seeing (live) mice anymore. This kitten was clearly intercepting them from the basement where they were finding their way in.

One day my son (who was probably 5 at the time) came to me and said “Mom, there is a mouse standing in the kitchen.”

“Buddy, mice don’t stand still. I don’t think so.”

He kept bugging me and repeating that there was a mouse standing in the kitchen. I finally got up to go see what he was talking about, thinking he had watched too much Tom and Jerry or something.

Well.

There in the kitchen was a mouse. I don’t think it was standing so much as it couldn’t move, but it was alive. On the other side of the door I hear the kitten meowing and swinging her paws underneath the door.

This smart little kitten found a mouse, maimed it, and shoved it under the door to us, so that we would find it and let her up to finish the job. She didn’t like the door being shut and wanted to come and go as she pleased. So after that, we left the door open, and got a gate so that she could get over it, but the dogs couldn’t get to her or her food or litter box.

Smart little kitten.

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