18 February 2009

a story worth telling

I'd have to categorize today as an unusual Wednesday.  And it seems it wasn't just unusual for me alone, but also for my parents and my dog.

The reason the day was unusual for me is because there was a mouse in my house.  We were just wrapping up breakfast - me on my couch, Kiddo on his.  I was doing my Bible reading and I saw that mouse-shaped blur out of the corner of my eye.  You know what I'm talking about... the kind where you're pretty sure you saw it, but you're not 100% sure you saw it until it darts out again making you want to climb to the highest point of the nearest piece of furniture and cringe a lot.

OK... maybe that's just a me thing.

Anyway, so I was actually pretty sure of what it was considering it ran from the corner of the living room to underneath the entertainment center and knocked Kiddo's partially deflated V-day balloons askew on its way.  That and the fact that Kiddo obviously saw it and looked around at me like, "Whoa, Mom... is that supposed to happen?"

So, I was just sitting there trying to remain calm and repeating my mouse mantra of: "This is not happening, this is not happening..." when it ran out from underneath the entertainment center and around behind the bookcase.

This is something I've never understood... why mice feel it necessary to exit a room in stages.  They obviously aren't incredibly brave creatures or they would just make a mad dash all at once.  But then again, I can't say a lot about bravery considering I was the one thinking about scaling the recliner.

The second appearance is when a bad case of the eebie-jeebies really started to set in.  So, I grabbed the phone to call Hubby and file a complaint.  I think when he said hello, I responded with something like, "UGGGGGHHhhhhhhh...... there's a mouse in the house..." I also stood up as if I was maybe going to do something about it, although I'm not sure what it would have been at that point because there was no way I was gonna leave the room and give it the chance to follow me.  Maybe standing was just a nervous thing.  Anyway, about that time, it came out from behind the bookcase - and here's the best part - STOPPED IN THE DOORWAY, looked at me, and scurried off around the corner and into the kitchen.

We all know that mice move in unidentifiable blurs of gray ickiness which leave you wondering if mice travel head or tail first, but no, this one got all saucy and looked back at me as if to let me know that he knew he was running the show and he was just gonna go take charge of the kitchen and find some crumbs behind the fridge.

I think my husband was in the process of telling me where the mousetraps were when I said, "No way I'm staying here all day with that."

So, we got dressed and went to my parents' house.

P.S. I've never set a mousetrap and don't really have any desire to learn.  Duh.  That's why I got married.

OK, so reason numero dos my day was a little unusual.  It's the middle of February, right? And on the way to my parents it starts raining a la monsoon AND lightning AND thundering... and by the time we get to their house it's a full-on rain/hail storm.  So, I got pinged on the head with hailstones.  Not so much of a normal happening for me.

Once we got inside and mostly dried off, I got to find out why it wasn't a normal day for my parents either (this is really what I sat down to write about and then I got all carried away with the mouse story).  Apparently last night some random abandoned dog showed up at my parents' house.  Mom said she was some kind of hound dog and had apparently had puppies very recently.  She also said that the dog was very sweet, but that Curtis (my dog from when I still lived at home) wasn't fond of her being there.  He was once a random abandoned dog and I think the whole situation made him nervous and maybe a little too reminiscent of his former life.  And Curtis has never liked situations that make him think of his mother, which is, I'm fairly certain, why he used to howl when I sang "Precious Memories" to him.


So this dog decided to just hang out and stand looking in my parents back door (and by stand I do mean like on her back feet) and howl all night.  She was still around by this morning and Curtis was getting a little peeved about it, so he bit her.  And they got into it.  He should know better than to mess with a hormonal woman.  Daddy didn't know what else to do but call animal control, although I think that if Curtis had been more amiable, they would have seriously considered keeping her.

The animal control people say they'll come pick her up but that my folks need to put Curtis up so they don't have to deal with canine attitude x2.  So, here's the first part of the story that gets kinda comical.  Mom and Dad bring Curtis inside the house.  This might seem pretty trivial except that he only passes through the house from time to time to pick up a milk bone and, oh yeah, he's the size of a small pony.  Plus, he stinks.  A lot.

So, mom is inside the house with Curtis when the animal control people pull up to get the mama hound dog.  About the time they've pulled up in the driveway, a guy we go to church with drove by in his big white pick-up.  Daddy didn't realize who it was, but he waves and slows down to come back and talk to Daddy.  So he socks it in reverse to pull back to Mom and Daddy's driveway... and absolutely runs all over their mailbox.

At this point, Daddy still has no idea who it is and is maybe a little miffed because, well... somebody just knocked over his mailbox, and he starts out toward the road saying, "WHO IS THAT?" Let's just say, he's a big-ish guy and can sound a lot more angry than he probably really is, so the animal control guys were looking a little uncomfortable and probably wondering if they might have to handle a domestic dispute or something.

So, Daddy's walking out to the pick-up truck and the animal control guys start easing out of their truck when Daddy realizes who it actually is who's hit the mailbox.  And this is what he says back over his shoulder to the cops:

"Oh... don't worry, guys.  It's somebody I know.  He just stopped by to knock over my mailbox."

Because that's just the sort of thing my dad pretty much always has to say.


Maybe you had to be there.

I should wrap this up by saying that Hubby brought home mousetraps and we loaded one up with peanut butter and stuck it under the trash can in the kitchen.  Now, I figured the thing had probably found its way out of the house even before I left for my parents, but sure enough... about an hour later I was back in my bathroom getting ready for church when I heard that signature "SNAP! flop, flop, flop..."

And then I did a little happy dance because the sucker was dead.  Quadrupeds belong outdoors, this one found his way indoors, and, well... he just had to die.

Come after me, PETA.

P.S. Hubby cleaned up the carcass.  That's another reason I got married.