With weather this perfect, my office windows are thrown open to invite the sunshine and clean morning breeze in to whisk away yesterday’s stale air. I love to stand in front of the window when the sun is warming the dewy grass, wisps of steam rising in fluttery tendrils. This, coupled with a fresh, heaving lungful of fresh air. . . GAG! GASP! Lord have MERCY, what on earth is that SMELL?
Falling away from the window in horror and slamming my window shut, I shudder. Seriously, what was that smell? I wonder for a moment if I need smelling salts, anything to burn that smell out of my nose. Ick.
Holding my breath, I slowly open the window and look around. There it is, just 6 inches below my window. Ewww. Decomposing mice.
The gravel below my window has become a mouse graveyard, but the caretaker has apparently taken leave of his job, and has left a scattering of furry little corpses for me to deal with.
Gotta love that little hunter. With this latest offering from Wick, the count is 9 moles and 14 mice. And she’s barely over a year old. Good kitty.
However, as many times as I praise her prowess, as many times as I dispose of those poor little creatures (even thought they are considered vermin, they are still pretty cute), she keeps bringing us more. She might even be getting bored with my ‘good hunter’ litany.
Truthfully? I’m starting to get just a little bit scared.
Somewhere, the Mayor of Mousedom is ticked off that his furry relatives keep disappearing, being offered as gifts at my office window or in front of Peter’s car.
Soon, the mouse kingdom will figure it out. And they know they can’t send a mouse army. I mean really. Wick will wipe them out with one swipe of her mighty paw. The numbers speak for themselves.
So, to give back just a little to the mousy world, I have written a tribute for the fallen comrades of Mousedom. Why? You know– just in case those dead mice are gathered somewhere in the rodent after-world, planning on a ghostly uprising or something.
An Ode to Mice
You’re cute, you’re furry, and you scamper with glee.
Too bad our cat is quicker than thee.
Your life was ended, no doubt in fear.
I’m sorry you suffered while your end was near.
If you could escape our Wick’s mighty paw,
You could report to all mice exactly what you saw.
Mice would be warned, both near and far,
Stay clear of Wick’s house, or a snack is what you are.
Live out your lives in vast wooded land,
Stay out of our walls, consider yourselves banned.
It’s the least I can do to save your little lives,
Hey, it’s that, or Wick’s claws like knives.
If this doesn’t work, come visit us on Halloween. I’m sure the body count will be in the triple digits, and we’ll be able to offer a ghoulish mouse ghost tour like you’ve never seen before.
