Once upon a time, long, long ago, I read about a wonderful breed of cat and knew someday I would have a Ragdoll. They were everything I wanted; a companion, lovable, big and fluffy, could be trained. Just perfect for me. Then Chief came into my life when he was 3 months old. He picked me. I went to the breeder to meet the kitties she had. They were all cute but he crawled up on me and snuggled into my neck with the biggest purr. He wouldn't leave me alone. How can say no to that! Jamie could, that's who. She was an old cranky kitty who was still in mourning for her "sister" when Chief came to live with us. She missed Jessie who had dies a few months before and just wanted to be left alone. Chief had other ideas and tried so hard to be her friend. He hugged her, licked her, tried to play with her but nothing worked.
After Jamie died Chief did the next best thing. He made friends with the mice that got into the house that fall. I would find Chief walking down the hall with a mouse next to him, just like buddies. That's wrong, it's just wrong! This event happened a couple different times with a couple different mice. I know they were different because I physically and permanently removed each mouse as it happened.
Then came Bert. Mister bundle of energy. He took care of Chief's need for a buddy and they became the best of friend - inseparable. Time pasted and we moved into a different house. No mice in this house, only the occasional fly or other bug that would amuse the boys for a while.
Earlier this week I came home from work and headed down the hall. There in the middle of the hall were two blobs. Crap! Bert's been at it again. He likes to play vacuum cleaner and suck up every bit of fur left on the carpet. He gets so excited about sucking up the little fur bits that is whole butt wiggles like a Labrador puppy. After he sucks up enough fur and condenses it in his tummy, it comes back up in the form of a tight fur hot dog (sorry that's the best description I could come up with without being gross). So, there it was in the hall, two dark fur hot dogs. Bert had been busy.
Unfortunately, looking closer at the blobs, they turned out to be a couple dead little mice. ICK! This brings up a couple questions- 1. How did one, much less two mice get into the house when I've been without them for many years? 2. Who did the deed of protecting the house from these intruders? The first question bothers me because I want to prevent more from coming in this fall. But the second questions has me curious. Chief would just as soon make friends with the mice so if it was him; his size probably scared them to death. Bert runs away at any noise in the house or outside so he would probably see a mouse and go hide under the guest bed. Guess I'll never know. At least the mice are, for now.
1 comment:
Mouse suicide pact?
And how is your foot doing?
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