Live Action Tom and Jerry

Buzz Kitten found a mouse. A tiny field mouse, who is apparently related to the Kangaroo, as this mouse can hop about two feet off the ground. Picture it, if you will; hopping mouse being chased by hopping kitten being chased by short, round woman holding a mayo jar.

(Why a mayo jar? I don’t really know. That just seems to be the universal “catch whatever of the wilderness has made it inside” tool.)

Then, without warning, the mouse hopped at me! At me, mind you, the very person trying to rescue it from the cat! So, I did the only thing I could do. I jumped and shrieked like a 1950’s housewife.

At the same time, Buzz pounced, caught the mouse in midair, and by the time her teeny paws hit the ground, there was only the tail sticking out of her mouth…like twitching rodent linguine. Except that the mouse was too big for her mouth and her jaws would open a little as the mouse squeaked and bounced.

I grabbed the cat, and held her head over the mayo jar and and tried to convince the kitten to release the mouse. Kitten was having none of it. Kitten really wanted to play with this furry, squeaky, bouncing thing. So, I put the jar on the floor, and try to shake the mouse out of the cat.

Kitten drops mouse into jar. Mouse tries to hop out of jar. Mouse is really stupid. Were it not for the possibility of diseases, I would let Buzz eat the mouse, if only on Darwinian principles. Kitten looks betrayed and angry. Gods I hope she doesn’t widdle on my pillow. Mouse still trying to escape into the jaws of waiting kitten. Stupid mouse. I do the only logical thing. I open Boy’s aquarium, mercifully free of the parade of disposable goldfish, toss in some newspaper shreds, some water and cheese (I dunno, mice eat cheese, right?), empty the mouse jar into the aquarium, then pile about 10 pounds worth of stuff on top, to stop Flying Walinda Mouse from doing an grande jeté into my kitten’s tummy.

Epilogue: Boy wanted to keep the mouse. Mommy was having none of that. Boy and Man released him in the back yard, out by the willows at the duck pond. Hopefully, ducks don’t eat bouncing mice. I’m still trying to figure out how the mouse got in the house. Kitten, who Did Not widdle on my pillow, seems to have forgiven me after judicious application of tuna, catnip and attention, and all seems right with the world.

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