I got out of bed this morning, poured a cup of coffee and came into the living room to read the New York Times online. On the way, I stopped to pick up Katie's hoodie off the floor. When I did, a little deer mouse popped out of it and took off running towards the kitchen. Slipper the Hunter Cat grabbed it and carried it into the bathroom to harass at his leisure, but has subsequently lost it amongst the cabinets, wastebasket, etc. I shut the door and I'm letting them resolve it the old fashioned way: with a fight to the death. Since I still hear bodies crashing around in there, I assume the battle is ongoing.
It's Mutual of Omaha's Wild Frickin' Kingdom in this house. But I want to be Marlin Perkins, who gets to wear the safari outfits and describe the bloodshed, and not Jim the Sidekick, who has to wrestle the 8 foot long alligator into it's cage while Marlin tells the folks about Mutual of Omaha's discounted term life insurance for seniors.
The crashing in the bathroom stopped, so I went to check on the Lion and his little Christian. The mouse was exhausted and sitting docilely in the middle of the room under the watchful, sadistic eye of the cat.
He was so docile, in fact, that he let me pick him up and carry him out the door to the field behind our house. When I put him down, he ran off, but I'm sure it's temporary. He'll be back. Now that he's had a taste of indoor livin', there'll be no keeping him out.
Oh well. Slipper will be glad to see him again.