Mouse in the House
This morning Ziggy cornered a mouse in the kitchen. I wasn't really surprised, because last night while we were watching Henry V, I could have sworn I heard squeaking from the direction of the kitchen. When I checked last night, though, I couldn't find anything. This morning the mouse was out in the open, and Ziggy had it trapped on top of a heater vent on the floor. This is the first mouse I've seen since we bought our house two years ago, so I'm hoping this is just a one-off, not a sign of things to come.
Ziggy is not one of those intrepid mouse hunters that you find among cats. He never learned to hunt, and so he's never actually (as far as I know) managed to kill or even really catch anything. (We had infrequent mice at a couple of places we lived in Pennsylvania.) He doesn't go outside so he's never had a chance at birds. Even things like ants and spiders are just interesting to him, not cause for stalking and pouncing. I guess he's a live-and-let-live kind of cat.
I think about a cat like Odin, who in some ways might strike one as a fey little fairy, and I know, deep in my heart, that he could out-mouse Ziggy any day. I have seen him demolish suede toy mice in a matter of minutes, gobbling their little tails and biting their heads off like a tiny guilloutine. But Ziggy just doesn't have the knack.
So this morning I called the real man of the house. Marty came down and scooped the mouse up on a piece of cardboard with a big cup over it, and took it out to the ravine behind our house. Thank goodness for Marty. In some ways, he's a better cat than Ziggy is.
This morning Ziggy cornered a mouse in the kitchen. I wasn't really surprised, because last night while we were watching Henry V, I could have sworn I heard squeaking from the direction of the kitchen. When I checked last night, though, I couldn't find anything. This morning the mouse was out in the open, and Ziggy had it trapped on top of a heater vent on the floor. This is the first mouse I've seen since we bought our house two years ago, so I'm hoping this is just a one-off, not a sign of things to come.
Ziggy is not one of those intrepid mouse hunters that you find among cats. He never learned to hunt, and so he's never actually (as far as I know) managed to kill or even really catch anything. (We had infrequent mice at a couple of places we lived in Pennsylvania.) He doesn't go outside so he's never had a chance at birds. Even things like ants and spiders are just interesting to him, not cause for stalking and pouncing. I guess he's a live-and-let-live kind of cat.
I think about a cat like Odin, who in some ways might strike one as a fey little fairy, and I know, deep in my heart, that he could out-mouse Ziggy any day. I have seen him demolish suede toy mice in a matter of minutes, gobbling their little tails and biting their heads off like a tiny guilloutine. But Ziggy just doesn't have the knack.
So this morning I called the real man of the house. Marty came down and scooped the mouse up on a piece of cardboard with a big cup over it, and took it out to the ravine behind our house. Thank goodness for Marty. In some ways, he's a better cat than Ziggy is.
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