Sunday morning mouse madness….

Did I mention I have several cats?


I don’t think I did, as I’m not really a cat lover….more a sucker for a sob story, which is possibly the same reason I have four children, but that is a story for another day 🙂

So, anyway back to the cats….


I actually have four of them at the moment, although in the past year I have had up to 13 at some points, mostly due to the fact one cat was of a very promiscuous nature and enjoyed nothing more than  to share the feline love…all over the village, thus making me known locally as the crazy cat lady

crazy cat lady

I have a depressed looking tabby called Daisy, an obese black n white monster of a cat called Sox, a beautiful male bengal we call marble and his sister, a neurotic yet beautiful silver cat that was responsible for the recent cat boom in Manchester:)

Late last Saturday night I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea and was gob smacked to find a field mouse doing the back stroke in the cat water bowl…with all four cats looking on with resigned expressions….

cat n mouse

The mouse jumped out of the bowl, ran straight past the useless cats and under the boiler into the dusty darkness….

After spending over an hour with my face on the kitchen floor shining a torch under anything I couldn’t physically move with Sox looking at me as if I was stupid, I decided to call it a night and hope that at least one of the cats would deal with it for me by morning, after all that is what cats do, isn’t it?

“Mum!! Mum!! The cats are playing hide and seek with a mouse”

Sunday morning began with child number 4 shouting up the stairs, announcing the fact that, rather than kill the mouse as one would expect, mine had decided to offer it full board with breakfast in exchange for a friendly game in my dining room.

Lurching out of bed and stumbling down the stairs I grabbed a towel and set about catching the bloody mouse myself, this time my audience were captivated, the kids watched bemused while stroking the cats and debating what they were going to call said mouse, seeing as it had come to live with us….

This obviously ended in tears. Mostly mine actually as it took me almost an hour before I eventually caught it and set it free in the back garden, much to the kids disgust as they had decided by then that it was a he and was to be named Timmy.

I now know there are many ways to catch a mouse, some more entertaining than others, yet none involving a crazy woman with Medusa hair brandishing a bath towel and yesterdays mascara…I spot a niche here.

This whole experience has taught me some valuable skills and knowledge though, next time one of my friends is terrified by a little critter in their kitchen I may offer to remove it for them as I have learnt that I have no fear of mice, only of putting my cheek in an unexplained wet patch on the floor whilst looking under the cooker for them…..

I have also done a little research myself and have found the perfect answer to my bone idle cat situation…..I have advised them that the next time I find a mouse they will have to find alternative accomodation, there is no point in having cats if I am spending Sunday morning doing the fandango with a mouse is there?



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