Toy Mice are More Fun

Kit, one of my three cats, is not often featured on my blog. That’s because she’s normal. Well, ok, she’s not normal but she’s more normal than the boys.

Her favorite toys have always been those little fur-covered mice. As a kitten she delighted in smacking them under the table, then darting in to “kill” them. To this day, they are her favorite. In the evenings, I fling toy mice down the hallway for hours so Kit can leap and run. The only problem with the mice is that Kit eats their tails. (See! She’s not so normal.) For years now, I’ve opened packages of toy mice and pulled countless tails off. I don’t really mind, though. They make her so happy.

One afternoon when I was still in college I was preparing to speak before one of my classes. I was sitting in the office floor surrounded by piles of papers. Kit strolled into the office with one of her new toy mice in her mouth. Thinking she wanted to play I started to shoo her off my papers when I realized that I’d missed pulling the tail off the mouse. As I began reaching for the mouse, something nagged at me. The package of mice had all sorts of colors: black, white, even purple, but I didn’t remember a brown one…

Kit dropped the mouse on my leg and it ran! I leapt up! I nearly pulled the tail off a real mouse! The mouse darted behind a speaker. Kit, interest renewed, followed after. I rubbed my head where I swear I had hit it on the ceiling. The ensuing commotion was like a beacon on a stormy shore to the other three pets. They were drawn to the office and the fray.The animals and I divided our efforts. They wanted to eat the mouse. I wanted to put it outside. Kit’s focus was so intent on the speakers that she did not see the mouse dart into the closet. She stayed by the speakers sniffing and pawing. By the power of her nose, the dog, Claire, knew that the mouse was in the closet. Hemmy, too, focused his attentions there. I began pulling junk, board games and schools supplies out of it wondering how on earth I’d find such a tiny animal amongst all the stuff. I made a note to myself to have a yard sale. Poor Friday wasn’t sure what was going on but he was eager to “help.” He prowled around on top of the computer desks presumably giving the aerial report to the pets below.

This is Chopper One; we see no sign of the mouse. I repeat we see no sign of the mouse.

We have a lot of stuff in that closet. I pulled item after item free shaking things a bit as I went listening for the sound of scratching or scampering. No mouse. Finally, all the contents of my closet were on the floor and the closet was inspected by me, Hemmy and Claire for possible mouse escape hatches. No such hatch existed and there was still no sign of the mouse. I knew he was hidden somewhere in all the stuff but was helpless to search anymore. It was time for class.

I felt bad for the mouse. No doubt, one of my slavering beasts would find him before I got home and then what would his fate be? I shuddered to think. I packed my supplies and tried to get my head back in order before my talk.

When I returned home there were all four pets in the exact position I had left them in. Kit was lying by the speakers keeping a casual eye on the gap at the back. Claire sniffed at the closet. Hemmy sat by the door watching sleepily and Friday was still on top of the computer desk. Presumably, no one found the mouse while I was at class.

No one ever did find him, either. Who knows what became of him. I like to think that in the dead of night he tippy-toed back out the way he came. Still, if you come to a yard sale at my house, you may want to thoroughly check the contents of the board game before you buy it. For all the pets and I know the mouse may never have left!catcatscat humorcat comedycat toys