Monday, October 13, 2008

we have a bookmark

We have a little residency problem. When we moved in I thought there weren't going to be any more tenants here. I guess, it means we have a really cool house that others want to live in. I mean really though, doesn't everyone want to live here? The new squatters, I mean tenants, are small and gray and cute and obviously have thought long and hard about relocating to warmer environs as the temperature drops; they have elected the Towers as their winter vacation quarters. However, they don't want to pay rent and are content to live off the hard work of others. Not very productive or cooperative additions to the Trout Towers Commune. Mice.

Fatso and Slinky think that the new tenants are just GREAT! Toys that move by themselves. The 3 a.m. 100 yard dash at has just turned into the Decathlon. Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy... I can only image what this sounds like downstairs. For the past two nights, they have had two new playmates to chase for simply hours and hours. Not much sleep on our end though. As the daylight approached on the first night, the chase slowed down and of course ended at the foot of our bed; the squeaking stopped, the cats fell asleep and we did too hoping that there wouldn't be grisly remains to step in later. Ew.

Fatso started scratching at the carpet about an hour later (we have several scatter rugs around), Randy threw a shirt at him to stop as he can be a little OCD about this. I mean Fatso, not Randy. Fatso then curled up on the shirt (he LOVES Randy's work clothes the best) and went to sleep. When I got up later and kicked the shirt aside with my toe in an attempt to launch it into the laundry basket, I felt a lump under the rug. As I just moved the rug there the day before, I was pretty sure it wasn't a sock or a warped floor board. Lifting the corner to peek, there was a very FLAT mouse underneath. Fatso has done him in by sitting on him. The best image I could find was this:
This is in fact what the mouse looked like and the cow's rear is about the size of Fatso's butt.

Last night, mouse II was chased and cornered similar to night one (ok, so we've had about 4 hours of sleep now) but this one hid in the suit bag on the floor and camped out for a while. When he made a break for it at dawn, Fatso flipped him over on his back and then Randy swooped in, grabbed the mouse and made for the front door where the (baby) mouse was hastily ejected. Slinky was pissed and quartered the floor in a vain attempt to relocate and perhaps eat, her new playmate. Fatso just looked blankly at the spot where his friend had been. Perhaps the flip was the final move before the coup de grace and the boom, I mean butt, came down.


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