Mice, Damn It!

So the other day The Missus Herself is getting ready to steam up some rice, she's in the washing process and keeps pulling something out of the rice, looking at it intently, then setting it aside. I'm only semi-paying attention, I think I was toasting an English muffin. After a bit, she seeks my counsel...

"Honey, what is this?" Holding a small grain-looking sort of thing. Grain-looking, but not grain.

"Uh, that's a mouse turd. You need to dump all of that rice, clean the pot and your hands really, really well."

"Mouse turd?"

"Yup."

"Crap."

"Precisely."

So it seems that we once again have a mouse problem here at Chez Sarge. Surely, you say (you know the rest), how can you have a mouse problem? You have two cats!

Yes my precious, we do indeed have two cats, two very senior cats, they're 16 years old, essentially 80 years old in human terms. Hunting is no longer something they do well, truth be told, Sasha was always the hunter, Anya is more of the laid back, live and let live cat of the duo. In fact, the feline staff don't hunt at all anymore, and the local mice have gotten cocky.

So it's up to me to bait and place traps, then to dispose of the evidence. But this reminds me of a time when the cats, well Sasha, were deadly hunters indeed.

(Source)

Jumbo, Felix One. I have movement at my two o'clock.

Copy Felix One, monitor, do not engage at this time.

Felix Two, Jumbo. Mount up, grid coordinates fife-niner-two-three-niner-six-fife-one.

Two.

Jumbo, Felix One. Contact is hostile, I repeat, hostile. Engaging now!

As I sat on the couch, perusing a sporting event on the television, I heard mad scrambling from the stairs leading down into the basement. Coming to a higher alert state I sat up straight and spied a small gray creature wriggling out from under the basement door. With a look of panic upon his small visage, he turned in my direction and came towards me in full grunt. As I sat there, flabbergasted that this tiny rodent would have the temerity to charge me, I then understood what all the commotion was about and why the wee beastie would challenge me in my own lair.

Through the cat door came Sasha, fangs bared, hair on fire, and ready to rumble. She was in hot pursuit of this tiny gray animal and had every intention of destroying it. After first, no doubt, making the wee mouse regret ever having been born. (There is nothing quite as cruel as a cat with time on its "hands" and nothing better to do than torment something.)

The mouse veered off at the last minute, Sasha bent to her right and pulled Gs as she tried to turn inside that mouse. But the angles were all wrong and the mouse managed to find sanctuary in the radiator in the living room.

Crap...

Felix One, Jumbo. Do you still have contact on the hostile?

One, Negative. Hostile has gone to ground, repeat, hostile has gone to ground.

Jumbo, Felix Two. On station, Felix One in sight.

Copy Two, stand by.

Two.

Sasha slid to a stop where the mouse had disappeared. She was as alert as only a cat with the scent of prey in her nostrils can be. Her sister, Anya, had ambled into the room to see what all the fuss was about, with one glare from Sasha, Anya sat down, well back from her sister. For those who don't know, Sasha is the Alpha. No one challenges her. Not even the humans, well except The Missus Herself, she is "Alpha Actual" at Chez Sarge. All I do is "pick things up and put them down."

With said Alpha Actual away for the day, it devolved upon me to take command of the situation and provide support to the hunters. I was kinda the on call air support, if you will.

Jumbo, Felix Two. I'm going in...

NEGATIVE TWO! HOLD POSITION, I SAY AGAIN, HOLD POSITION!!

As Anya's curiosity overcame her better instincts, she just had to get closer. Sasha turned and hissed at her sister. With that, the mouse broke cover and scrambled for the kitchen.

Crap...

MOVEMENT! I'VE GOT MOVEMENT, TWO YOU SEE THAT?

Two.

The mouse sprints to the kitchen and into the radiator there. Two cats in hot pursuit. Human close behind, ready to provide support. Mouse comes out of hiding, Sasha feints, mouse back into hiding. Checking the clock, I note that Alpha Actual should be home soon. There is no way she will appreciate the "mouse in the house." I know it sounds kinda cute but this ain't Mickey Mouse, this is an actual rodent.

So while the cats keep an eye on the mouse's last known location. I go get "The Equalizer." It's a broom. With the brush end I can swat the mouse to death should it break cover. With the other end I can poke it to death if it's in concealment, rather than cover. (Cover hides you and protects you. Concealment merely makes it hard to spot you.)

Jumbo, Felix One. Hostile's position is just inside the tree line at the northwest corner of the AO.

Roger One, Jumbo has eyes on the target. Rolling in hot.

Jumbo, all friendlies stay clear, deploying the broom handle at this time.

One.

Two.

The mouse was wedged into the very corner of the radiator at the northwestern side of the kitchen. The hole where the pipe entered the radiator from the basement was not big enough for the mouse to escape through. It would try to move down the radiator to the other end but Sasha kept poking her paw in there. The poor wee beastie was cornered. Nowhere to go.

Jab. Bang. It's over...

Jumbo, that's a hit, confirmed kill, no need for another pass. Hostile is down, repeat, hostile is down.

Jumbo is RTB at this time.

One.

Two.

Just after I had sent the mouse to the great beyond, The Missus Herself comes into the kitchen from the deck. Everything in the kitchen which could be moved, was moved. Nothing was left to hide that mouse except the radiator. Both cats were sitting there, still staring at the radiator, and I was kneeling nearby with broom in hand.

"What is that red stuff on the end of the broom?" The Missus Herself inquired.

"Blood."

"WHAT?"

"Honey, there is a dead mouse in the radiator. I'm going to dispose of the body now. You might want to go into the other room for a few minutes."

"But why is there a dead mouse in the... Oh." With that Alpha Actual departed the AO and I fished the expired rodent out of the radiator. Disposing of the wee corpse in the small woodlot adjacent to our abode. Returning to the manse, I cleaned off the broom and put it away.

Sasha was slightly peeved that she no longer had a mouse to "play" with. Anya, who isn't much of a hunter, truth be told, had already wandered off, show was over, nothing to see here. Move along.

Things do get exciting in small town New England from time to time.

And yes, I have other mouse stories, none of them end well for the mice.