I walked out of the house this morning and almost stepped onto the remains of a small mouse that had been deposited on the front door mat. My first reaction was, “Boy, am I glad I did not step on this mouse!”. My second reaction was, “Boy, these cats sure are good!”, as I have observed that we now have a predictable “mortality rate” of carcasses (mostly avian and rodent) showing up weekly at either the front or rear doors of the house.
While we have no hard, physical evidence of which cat actually is doing the kills, we are in generable agreement that it’s probably “Boo-Boo Tail”, as he’s been behaving a bit smug lately and all the other cats tend to admire him.
Only minutes ago, however, I got a very distressed call from Alice. She was obviously very, very upset and shaken up. Turns out, that since I only ‘observed’ the dead (and I forgot to mention, disemboweled) mouse, I didn’t actually remove the mouse from its front-door mat resting place. I left it there for Alice (and the cats) to admire.
Alice was distraught, because, as she walked out of the house she stepped directly, and will her full body weight, onto the mouse. Since she wasn’t wearing any shoes, the mouse’s entrails wound up between her toes and completely smeared against the bottom of her foot. I am sure I do not have to draw an illustration of what this moment in time must have been like for Alice.
As I sat and listened to Alice on the other end of the phone this afternoon, I could only regret my earlier decision to leave the mouse in place. Her first words to me on the phone were, “IT FINALLY HAPPENED, IT FINALLY HAPPENED!”. I thought I was a real gentleman when I told her that, yes, I had seen the mouse, but didn’t move it, as I wanted her (and the cats) to see it first.
Silence.
The reason that I thought I was a gentleman, was than any other reasonable person would have lied and not confessed that they had seen the dead mouse, yet had taken no action. Alice, curtly, told me that I was no gentleman. She would have actually preferred that I had indeed lied about the mouse as now, as she used Comet, boiling water, insecticide, soap, dishwasher detergent, ammonia, bleach and a wire brush to clean her toes and her feet, the realization loomed quite largely, that this entire incident could have been avoided by her trusted best friend and husband of 30 years, had he simply used more practical judgment. Truth be told, she would have been even happier if I had moved or removed the mouse.
Alice, I am so sorry, and, I promise that I will snap a photograph of all future kills and promptly dispose of the remains before you leave the house.
Except for the really grisly ones.
Love,
Wayne
