What goes bump, thumpity thump, (pause), crash in the night?
Hunter S. Tomcat, catching a mouse in the livingroom. Or maybe importing and releasing a mouse in the livingroom. I wasn't there for the prologue, so I don't know for sure.
I was sitting in the north wing of the Towers late last night when I heard aforementioned crashing. In a moment of previously undiscovered bravery, I went out to investigate. As I turned the doorknob, I remember specifically thinking "this could be a big mistake."
And it was. The aptly named Hunter gave me a look over his shoulder as he trotted past with something in his mouth. And then he put it down, so it could run into the toy corner and hide under the rolling green caterpillar.
The old me would have been all "cute little mousie! Bad life-exterminating cat!" I would have chucked Hunter outside, caught the mouse and relocated it, all the while playing some classical music and filling the air with essence of lavender to help the mouse relax. But last night all I could think of were the following scenarios:
1. Cat catches and decapitates mouse, leaving corpse in middle of livingroom rug.
2. Cat catches and eats mouse, vomiting corpse in middle of livingroom rug.
3. Cat fails to catch mouse and I
3a. find it in the drawer under my stove
3b. find signs of it under my stove
3c. discover that it's written home and invited all its friends and relations to live under my stove.
I move the rolling green caterpillar. Hunter is not looking, so then I have to also move the school bus, which starts playing "the Wheels on the bus go round and round! Round and round! Round and round!" with such gusto it gets the attention of the cat and temporarily paralizes the mouse. The mouse did not remain paralized, though, and dashed behind the basket of magnetic building thingies, where it no doubt pondered "what is this sudden redistribution of ions in my little mouse body? I feel a sudden surge of oxygen flow and increased circulation!"
And then it ran for its life again. After I moved the orange front-end loader, the stacking blocks with friendly and familiar images, the sparkly purple skipper and a remote control race car, the mouse made its last mistake and ran between the cat's legs - from back to front - ending at the business end of the cat.
I had left the door open (despite my concerns about the rest of the neighborhood moving in during my evacuation process) and Hunter dashed out with his prey again in his mouth.
This morning, as I wipe every surface of every toy with my new mouse-germ-removing Shaklee wipes, I wonder how far I will have to walk outside my front door before I find a decapitated mouse, left as a gift. I'm not sure I like this new version of me - the one that assists in the cruel termination of rodent life. But Hunter thinks I'm awesome.