Mouse in the House!
So with all the construction/renovation/repair work going on at the house, coupled with the horrid winter weather, it was inevitable. One of my sisters found the evidence in the upstairs bathroom. We have an unwelcome visitor, one with four paws, fur and a tail.
And no, his name isn't Mickey.
Our two resident felines looked at us, looked at each other, then looked at us again, as if to say "So what do you expect us to do about this?"
I think they need "the lecture".
Unfortunately, this is not the first time we've faced invasion from the furry creatures who reside in the neighboring woods. My mother always identified herself as a "dog person", but when the little rodents started eating the dog food...we did what all our neighbors had done: we got a cat.
Even as a kitten, Cinders (so-named because her fur was black as the ashes in our fireplace) knew what was expected of her. Within a short time of taking up residence in our home, she proved herself an excellent mouser -- and left the evidence of her prowess in the middle of the kitchen floor. Cinders 1, Mice 0.
And then she rested on her laurels for the next 20 years.
Enter TJ. My mother's coworker found this cute ball of orange fur abandoned in a cardboard box in the woods. Although we had a dog and a cat already, somehow my mother was persuaded to take the ginger cat home. My sisters named him TJ.
It was late at night, and my sister was alone in the kitchen, and she was startled by the site of an unwelcome visitor. She screamed, and my father came running downstairs.
And that's when my father gave TJ "the lecture". He walked the cat over to the pantry closet, where the critter had been spotted. And then he explained to the cat, "You're a member of this family. You have a roof over your head and you get fed every day. But you also have certain responsibilities..." He told TJ that "You have a job to do, and we expect you to do it soon."
When my father lectures like that, you listen.
The very next morning, my sister found the deceased in the middle of the kitchen floor. Of course she told TJ what a good boy he was, how proud she was of him, what a good job he'd done.
Yes, I think Redford and Mr. Kitty need "the lecture."
And no, his name isn't Mickey.
Our two resident felines looked at us, looked at each other, then looked at us again, as if to say "So what do you expect us to do about this?"
I think they need "the lecture".
Unfortunately, this is not the first time we've faced invasion from the furry creatures who reside in the neighboring woods. My mother always identified herself as a "dog person", but when the little rodents started eating the dog food...we did what all our neighbors had done: we got a cat.
Even as a kitten, Cinders (so-named because her fur was black as the ashes in our fireplace) knew what was expected of her. Within a short time of taking up residence in our home, she proved herself an excellent mouser -- and left the evidence of her prowess in the middle of the kitchen floor. Cinders 1, Mice 0.
And then she rested on her laurels for the next 20 years.
Enter TJ. My mother's coworker found this cute ball of orange fur abandoned in a cardboard box in the woods. Although we had a dog and a cat already, somehow my mother was persuaded to take the ginger cat home. My sisters named him TJ.
It was late at night, and my sister was alone in the kitchen, and she was startled by the site of an unwelcome visitor. She screamed, and my father came running downstairs.
And that's when my father gave TJ "the lecture". He walked the cat over to the pantry closet, where the critter had been spotted. And then he explained to the cat, "You're a member of this family. You have a roof over your head and you get fed every day. But you also have certain responsibilities..." He told TJ that "You have a job to do, and we expect you to do it soon."
When my father lectures like that, you listen.
The very next morning, my sister found the deceased in the middle of the kitchen floor. Of course she told TJ what a good boy he was, how proud she was of him, what a good job he'd done.
Yes, I think Redford and Mr. Kitty need "the lecture."
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