We have a mouse in the house. I know this for a certainty because I've seen it in our living room...running in back of the tv cabinet, jumping over the kitchen threshhold, and finally diving in back of the dishwasher!
And Noodleman was right there on the couch, seeing everything that I saw. He stood up, turned around in a circle, and then laid back down while facing the other way.
"Some hunter you are!" I said to myself.
Actually, I really don't want Noodleman nor SpiceGirl ever catching a mouse because any mouse that comes inside this house is only here looking for shelter and warmth. He'll leave in the Spring.
"What do you mean...'poor mouse!'", my husband sputtered. "Do you realize the amount of damage one mouse can do to food and your clothing?"
"Well, he's just a small one...how much could he possibly eat?!"
"Honey, it's not just him in here. When you see one, there are twenty more in the walls that you don't see! And they're all doing what mice do best...MAKING MORE MICE!"
I conceded that maybe...just maybe...Mike was right. But when he mentioned buying some traps...
"Okay. But why don't we check out the 'live traps' first. If we can catch him, we can put him back outside where he belongs."
"Baby, forget it! I'm getting good old-fashioned traps, putting some cheese on them, and THEN putting him back outside where he belongs!"
Well, the traps were bought, baited, and placed inside the lower cabinets . And each morning my husband checked them, swore to himself, rebaited the traps, and put them back for another try. This went on for days!
In the meantime, Noodleman would sit in front of the dishwasher or in front of the cabinet next to it, listening and cocking his head. Every once in a while the mouse would make a mad dash across the kitchen floor and jump behind the stove, causing Noodleman to stand up, stretch, and slowly lumber over to the new location where he proceeded to again sit quietly and cock his head from time to time!
Once in a while, SpiceGirl would enter the kitchen and go over to investigate the situation, but she finally gave up trying to see what was so interesting...especially when Noodleman swatted at her to get away and leave him and his mouse alone!
One morning while watching my husband reset yet again another one of his traps with an even bigger smear of Velveeta on it, I gave in to the temptation and smirked, "Honey...I don't think your traps are working very well."
He ignored my sarcasm and continued to place the baited trap back into the nether regions of the lower cabinet.
"Maybe we should have gotton the 'live traps' I suggested in the first place. With the way that this mouse loves cheese, we'd probably have caught him by now...and there wouldn't be any way for him to trip a mechanism first!"
My husband straightened up, looked at me, and said, "I need coffee...AND if our CATS would do their JOB, that mouse would be history by now. But NO...Noodleman thinks that the mouse is his own personal TOY! What kind of cat just 'mouse-watches', anyway?!"
"Maybe he's a pacifist", I offered.
Later on that day, Noodleman again took up his designated seat on the kitchen floor. But THIS time when the mouse dashed out from under the dishwasher, Noodleman SPRANG UP AND POUNCED!
And what a pounce it was! So high and graceful in a lethal sort of way!
Too bad he missed!
All in all, I guess that the mouse will continue to keep my husband busy, and Noodleman entertained. But this won't go on forever.
He'll leave in the Spring.
Christine