I’ve just been rescuing what looked like a wood mouse… very dainty little fellow. Cats are supposed to catch rodents living in the house, whereas ours catch them outdoors and bring them in to play with. For some reason, Delilah’s favourite torture chamber is the bathroom.
I was watching Suspect starring Cher and Dennis Quaid, and noticed Delilah joyfully grabbing at the tail of something trying to hide under the bathroom door. I grabbed Delilah (nearly getting my wrists slashed when she made a determined attempt to chase the mouse, which had scuttled temptingly over to the door of my sitting room). I shut Delilah in the bathroom and turned back round, expecting the mouse would have disappeared, but it was still sitting there. I didn’t really want it to go inside my sitting room, as we would never find it again, and it might chew cables and things… but when I moved towards it, thinking it would rush inside, it stayed, and then ran back and hid under a table on the landing (not very good cover).
I started to close the sitting room door, then realized why the mouse hadn’t gone in. It had stopped there on one side of the door, and on the other side of the door was Samson, my other cat.
Samson didn’t have a clue the mouse was there, though the sounds of Delilah thumping around in the bathroom seemed to puzzle him slightly; the mouse knew he was there without even looking. Maybe he saw the light change with his movement, smelled him, heard him, or all three.
Anyway, I didn’t tell… I closed the door on Samson, then went after the mouse with a shoebox. I thought I had him, put the lid on, carried it downstairs, went outside and opened the lid to place the mouse in the grass… and the box was empty! Arr. Stumped back inside, found mouse still lurking under the table, then it hid under the teddy bears lining the side of the stairs (they’re there for some tea party Mum’s going to hold). I would pick up a bear, exposing the mouse, and it would plink down a step and under the next bear. Then it plinked up a couple of steps, confusing me for a bit, as I was still working downwards. I blocked it from going back up on the landing, and it not only started plinking down the steps again, it FLEW down them, over the heads of the bears, and was at the bottom of the stairs in about 2.5 seconds.
Do you ever dream about flying? Being a mouse would be nice if it wasn’t for the predators, you could sort of swoop about without the need for wings.
After that it was a piece of cake; it obviously knew what a door was (is that a stupid thing to say? wasps know what doors are too) and it scrabbled despairingly at the front door (unfortunately shut) then huddled in a corner. I eased the door open, waited, and having hesitated for a long time as though trying to work out what sort of trap I had laid, it ran out and off into the night.
Delilah can’t find her mouse, so she’s beating up Samson instead.