Saturday, July 23, 2011


Sometimes I write ideas for blog posts at the oddest of times (middle of the night, or at breakfast, sometimes because of breakfast) or in the oddest of places. My room, purse and car are scattered right now with odd bits of paper covered in nonsensical scribblings.

But all that to say, this post is not like those.
This is real and it just happened. The nausea has still not passed.
About 20 minutes ago I was sitting at the computer bemoaning my lack of inspiration when all of the sudden I heard an uncanny yowling. It literally sounded like and angry 2 year-olds we all hear at Walmart.

Now, it's late at night, and I'm alone in the house. 20 minutes ago I certainly wasn't expecting any intruders with angry two-year-olds! I was scared. Really scared. everything is 422% scarier late at night when you're alone in a house. Its a proven fact.

As I turned the corner to see what the commotion was about, I saw the cat bent over the floor, and thought "Darn it! He barfed another hairball!"

If only.

As I got closer, I realized it was not a hairball, it was a mouse. I have never felt such revulsion, shock and nausea all rolled into one. It was terrible. Just terrible. As I looked closer, the feelings did not pass, they only intensified. I then began to feel guilty and ashamed at being so terrified and disgusted at such a harmless (and normally adorable) wee little animal.

I blindly ordered the cat to take it back outside, but my pleas were in vain.... he just looked up as if to say "Isn't this de-meow-lightful?" ... I feel like a lion! don't I look like a lion?? Meow?"

He kept sniffing it and moving it and finally I couldn't handle it anymore I put the cat in the garage, (hoping he wouldn't EVER find any more) and then tried to decide what to do next.
I found the dust pan and knelt next to the tiny creature. I looked at it so long trying to summon up the courage to pick it up, that it almost seemed as if it began to move. This initiated freak out moment #2 because I kept imagining the (possible) tiny squeak that would emerge from it's body as I pick it up.
I then walked past it into the kitchen where I regained my courage only to walk up once more to it and be rendered helpless by the aforementioned emotions. this cycle happened several times before I finally decided to just pretend it wasn't real.

"I'm sure lots of cat owners have pretend mice................... 
that look real.... and have long skinny tails.. stop stop thinking!!!
Its pretend! It's pretend!!!"

I (valiantly) scooped up the tiny thing, marveling at how light it was. Then I looked at the ceiling the entire way to the back door, then went out and tossed it over the deck.

I made a fatal mistake however. I looked down just in time to see the white little body fade into the blackness and then hear the small rustle of the grass as it made contact.
I probably will never forget that moment.
Or ever go in the back yard again.

Please don't get me wrong, I like animals, especially tiny ones!
But it's weird (for lack of a better term) to see death like that, and so unexpectedly. I couldn't bring myself to even look at. It was just terrible. But it is done now, and that is my escapade for the week, maybe the year. More to follow.

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