One day, Doc came up to me and announced that we have a mouse in the house. I looked at him askance because there is nothing more than having a mouse in the house to make it all of a sudden feel.....unclean despite my efforts.
Since then, I have found mouse poop in the laundry room, Bashful's closet, and the basement. Aargh! Doc then suggested that we get a good mouser. There is no definite way of making sure that a cat will be a good mouser until the deed is done, so I sneered at myself as I said, "Okay, fine. We'll go look at cats, but it better be a nice cat."
I must be insane. We now have a cat. She is four years old and the most demanding little priss I've ever met. We must be cat people. Sitting at dinner one night, we saw her trot over to her litter box around the corner. I said, "Look! There she is! Isn't that such a good kitty?" As we heard her scratching at her litter to cover up her mess, we said, "Cats are awesome, man! You bring them home and voila! They take care of themselves!" They are useless when it comes to protecting the home and scaring away the bad people, but since my men must have a pet to love, so be it.
She is nice to the boys even though Happy loves to put his humongous head on her stomach thus making her get up and flee. As being a good mouser goes, well, there was an incident that gave me a pretty good idea on her skills.
The mouse is quite the arrogant one and we've seen the back end of him a few times as he scurries underneath furniture scaring the living daylights out of me. A couple nights ago, I was feeding the baby when I turned to look over at the fireplace. There was that dang mouse scurrying up the fireplace.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
Since all I had as a weapon was the remote control plus a baby in my arms, I turned to look for the cat. There she was snoozing on the couch just a few feet from the fireplace. "You dang cat! Do your job, for Pete's sake, will ya? Doc! DOC! The mouse is in the fireplace!" He ordered me to turn it on and fry the sucker.
Well, that would have worked if the thing had actually been in the logs, but since it works on gas the sucker was able to get out alive through the pipe. I picked up the cat and put her nose to the fireplace, but she was definitely not interested.
Since then, we've heard her trying to catch something, but the mouse is winning. Ah, well. Time to put out more traps.
Since then, I have found mouse poop in the laundry room, Bashful's closet, and the basement. Aargh! Doc then suggested that we get a good mouser. There is no definite way of making sure that a cat will be a good mouser until the deed is done, so I sneered at myself as I said, "Okay, fine. We'll go look at cats, but it better be a nice cat."
I must be insane. We now have a cat. She is four years old and the most demanding little priss I've ever met. We must be cat people. Sitting at dinner one night, we saw her trot over to her litter box around the corner. I said, "Look! There she is! Isn't that such a good kitty?" As we heard her scratching at her litter to cover up her mess, we said, "Cats are awesome, man! You bring them home and voila! They take care of themselves!" They are useless when it comes to protecting the home and scaring away the bad people, but since my men must have a pet to love, so be it.
She is nice to the boys even though Happy loves to put his humongous head on her stomach thus making her get up and flee. As being a good mouser goes, well, there was an incident that gave me a pretty good idea on her skills.
The mouse is quite the arrogant one and we've seen the back end of him a few times as he scurries underneath furniture scaring the living daylights out of me. A couple nights ago, I was feeding the baby when I turned to look over at the fireplace. There was that dang mouse scurrying up the fireplace.
"AAAAAHHHHH!"
Since all I had as a weapon was the remote control plus a baby in my arms, I turned to look for the cat. There she was snoozing on the couch just a few feet from the fireplace. "You dang cat! Do your job, for Pete's sake, will ya? Doc! DOC! The mouse is in the fireplace!" He ordered me to turn it on and fry the sucker.
Well, that would have worked if the thing had actually been in the logs, but since it works on gas the sucker was able to get out alive through the pipe. I picked up the cat and put her nose to the fireplace, but she was definitely not interested.
Since then, we've heard her trying to catch something, but the mouse is winning. Ah, well. Time to put out more traps.