Tuesday, June 10, 2014


   I woke up at 5:45 with the Shibas next to the bed spazzing out, and Kismet jumping up on the bed and getting in my face. They were squirrelly-er than usual, like kids on Christmas morning.
   Aki ran out of the room and returned with one of Kismet's toys, a tan, fleece mouse. She was chomping on it, then shaking it violently, then ramming it into my leg, then repeating all of it. Hmm. I followed them all downstairs.
   There was an empty mousetrap in the middle of the dining room floor. As you might guess, this is not a customary location for a mousetrap. All three animals stood by; Aki pawed at it, then excitedly ran to the dining room vent, pointed at it, then ran to the rug by the front door and excitedly snorted and danced around. What. The. Heck?
   I saw that Dad was awake and already digging in the flower bed outside. I opened the window. "Do you know why there's a mousetrap in the dining room?" I said.
   "There was a dead mouse in it when I got up. And another dead mouse lying by the front door. I threw them in the trash in the garage." As if it wasn't terribly out of the ordinary. "Oh, and Taylor graced us with two piles of poop on the living room rug. I cleaned those up too."
   "Great. So I have a possible rodent murder-suicide on my hands, and apparently it scared the poop out of Taylor," I thought. "But where on earth did the trap in the dining room come from???" I may never have my answer to that. Nor will I know who killed the mouse by the door. Both Aki and Kismet want to chalk it up for their 2014 midyear performance reviews. (Taylor already knows he's getting a performance plan for defecating on my Anthropologie rug.) 
   I got home from work, greeted Dad, got the mail, and was in the dining room when I heard a scuffle. Aki and Kismet were going cray-cray in the living room. Taylor was "supervising." I turned the corner to see what the commotion was about. The girls were trying to burrow in the approximately 1/2" of space under the couch. I slid one corner out from the wall, to see a small mouse scurry back to the safely of the other corner. Aki dove in between the couch and wall, snorting and tail wagging furiously. Just then I heard Dad enter the kitchen from outside. I ran to get a trash can so I could attempt to corner and capture the furry intruder.
   "I need your help—another mouse!" I yelled.
   He ran in and lifted one end of the couch. The girls dove under. I couldn't see the mouse. I wielded my trash can and moved around the couch expectantly... just in time to see Aki dive on it. In a second, she snuffed out his little life with a chomp. I was horrified that we didn't capture him alive, but thankful that his death was swift, for his sake.

The lesson: 
1) If you chop down healthy burning bushes that are large enough that they may have rooted in the Jurassic period, be prepared when you inevitably disturb some inhabitants
2) Cats—and dog—are valuable hunters to have around. Maybe not Taylor. But he's really cute.