The Other Kind of Mouse (eeek!)

We have 2 cats. One is Birdie, the other Dorothy. The year Dorothy came to live with us, Moira was 5 and dressed up as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. I was almost 9 months pregnant, when on October 30 a small, black cat sauntered in from the cold dark and curled up in a pink princess chair in our living room. Dorothy has been living with us ever since that night 4 years ago. And Birdie, named after our aunt Bird, came shortly after from the ASPCA. But, I digress.
It was just after midnight a couple nights ago that Birdie began her throaty, trilling, meow that signals, “Hey, look what I’ve got!” I peered out from under the covers and saw her sitting beside me with a mouse in her mouth. Of course I very calmly called to my husband to please wake up and take care of the situation. Okay, really I yelled, “Scott, wake up! Help! Get the mouse!”
Either way, my wonderful, brave husband sleepily crawled out of bed, rolling his eyes and mumbling under his breath. I ducked back under the covers and closed my eyes till it was over. Thank you, babe, for being the mouse cleaner-upper in the family.
play  March 2011 027

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