You know you could have been a Grandmamices.
You sure they’re gone? innocently asks
My last aging cat now deceased jumped into bed one night, and did a full-mouth-mew. I looked over at him and OMG he brought me a gift-- a baby mouse! I turned quickly to grab paper towels, turned back to remove it from his mouth!
It was still alive (of course), and as I tried to grasp it in the paper towels, the cat let go!! I had a fraction of a grip on it. The mouse wiggled out, ran across my blanket covering my legs, jumped off the bed— and the race was on!! Me-cat chasing my cat who’s chasing little mouse. I kept trying to get ahead, but … have you ever seen a half-cat-human hobbling along after a hunter-cat chasing the best obstacle runner God ever made? I thought not!
That mouse ran left under a newspaper, then right behind a wastebasket, left-right-left under a chair where a quick paw forced him out, then left-left-right behind a stand, into the bathroom (with no way out I thought when I closed the door), under the door and headed back to my bedroom— back and forth till I gave up the chase, exhausted.
I knew my cat though old would find it… though I prayed he wouldn’t eat the poor thing! A few hours later, I went to use the bathroom, carefully tip-toeing my way. Found the mouse. I pronounced the cause of his demise as “Tachycardia resulting from being Chased to Death.” Poor thing. For the next month, my cat sat next to the cold air register. I think the 1st mouse came in behind the refrigerator, made it 2 rooms before he slipped on the register’s holes-- where my cat heard the struggle and tried to “rescue” the mouse, before killing him. Good mouser. He watched that mouse acrobatics obstacle (the register) as if he was guarding a bank!
(I miss my kitties.)