I got really sick Sunday night. All night sitting on the lap of the porcelain god. Stand up. Sit down. Stand up. Sit down.
It was like that most of the night...until I started realizing that I was hearing a mouse chewing.
But he was two rooms away! How come he's so loud?
When I entered the kitchen, I found him in the lazy susan, chewing on my cupboard.
Angry? Oh you betcha. And hubby wasn't happy either.
I watched him travel around the kitchen. So, too, did my cat. He lay on the kitchen floor and mewled for the other cat to come and get the mousie, but I think she was asleep in daddy's chair, because she made no entrance. What a diva!
So Mr. Chat decided to take a break and lay down in front of the frig, while watching the mousie hole between the cupboards, every now and then, popping out a few whiskers, while Mr. Chat made a somewhat half-hearted attempt to get that "(&*)*&(%*%" mouse out of that "_(_&(%&%#^@%@" cupboard. Not that either of us is bitter.
So momma set a trap and put it on the counter (yuck), only to find out two days later, after the peanut butter had been licked clean, that it was defective.
Ah, well, live and learn, right?
So we set a different trap under the sink which is every mousie's special haven.
Today, mousie kaput....although hubby thinks it's a different mousie...I hope that's not possible. We'll find out in the morning.