Actually, it's 2:21 a.m. and I am grossed the hell out.
At 1:50, my phone rang. And stopped. At 1:50:03, my phone rang again. It was a staffer telling me the web site was down. I turn on my laptop to assess the situation, and what do I see by the luminous blue glow of Windows starting up?
My cat in a Mexican standoff with a mouse. About three inches from my hand. Both of them frozen stiff staring at each other. I turn on the light, and the mouse breaks and runs. The cat chases and catches, but then she lets it go and bats it around. She won't just finish the fricking job and kill the stupid thing.
The web site came back up as if by magic.
So now it has been a half hour that she's been messing with it and I think the thing is almost dead, even though it's still squeaking. But damned if I'm going to get any sleep tonight. Partly because it's not dead yet, partly because I'm still squicked out by almost having touched it, and partly because I just know the damn cat will jump on the bed to eat it when it DOES die.
NYAB is annoyed because I keep waking him up yelling at the cat to catch the thing and take it downstairs and NOT to jump on the bed. I don't want to pick the thing up, and the cat doesn't shoo well with things wiggling in her mouth.
I HATE winter. Those damn critters only come in our house when it is freezing outside.
obe caught a mouse once. well not so much caught as she stared at it while it squeaked in terror, looking for mommy (its eyes were still closed, though they opened the next day) I used a plastic cup to scoop it up and put it in a swinging habitrail (translation: a big tupperware thing with some softened cat food and tissues) I named it, and then my dad took it away and released it outside in the 20 degree weather. I was very unhappy.
Posted by: ardentdelerium | March 08, 2007 at 09:12 AM
You know, the picture I got in my head of a cat playing with a mouse until it dies totally grossed me out. But as a kid, I saw our cocker spaniel catch a mouse and I rememberber not being grossed out, but proud that we had such a good mouser of a dog. Of course, he crushed the mouse and it died almost instantly. Then my older brother got rid of it. So the whole incident lasted less than five minutes. And it wasn't on my bed - eewww.
Posted by: Sparkling Cipher | March 08, 2007 at 09:28 AM
Blargghhh. Gross!
Posted by: nabbalicious | March 08, 2007 at 10:11 AM
Hey, at least you know where your mouse is. Ours tend to camp out until the get bored and move on.
Posted by: Darren McLikeshimself | March 08, 2007 at 10:24 AM
Reason 4,853 why I don't have a cat.
Posted by: TigMode | March 08, 2007 at 03:14 PM