He’s Not A Killer, Unfortunately

There was some action at our house yesterday.

My son was playing playdough while I was getting ready for work. I looked down and Cosmo, the cat, was running through my guy’s bedroom. After asking Cosmo what was up, I realized he was chasing a mouse.

I calmly picked my son up and put him on the chair and joined him there as Cosmo chased the mouse around my son’s desk, under the chair, down the hallway and into our bags I set at the door.

My guy wanted to see the mouse. I wanted to make sure the mouse wasn’t in my work bag. I told Cosmo to get the mouse, not to play with it but kill it.

The mouse ran out, through the banister and into our couch.

Great.

I pulled off one of the cushions and the mouse ran to the next one. I told Cosmo to be ready as I lifted off the second cushion and the mouse ran under the stairs and I can only assume down the stairs and into the basement.

Damn.

Our cat – the chaser and torturer of mice. (The first time this happened, the mouse was hurt. I have never heard a cry like that. I could hear it outside. It was awful.)

I told Cosmo that I expected to see a dead mouse when I got home, preferable sitting in the hallway and not in my shoe.

Sadly that didn’t happen.

Mouse traps are next.