This is the first in a series about the escapades that Amber and I've been having with the little field mice that want to come into our home. Unfortunately for them, it's a home with 7 cats...

It all started about a week or so ago. I came home like normal and as I was changing out of the suit and tie, I noticed that Uma (a normally sedentary fat cat) was behaving rather oddly. She kept looking around the foot of the bed and the laundry basket like she'd lost something. As I was trying to figure out whether or not she had just smoked crack, I saw a little brown mouse shoot across the floor and hide under the laundry basket. As one whose lived in 2nd floor apartments for the last 5 years or so, this was a bit of a shocker to me. I quickly decided that Uma was a broken kitty because she didn't notice the little guy run behind her.

So, in a fit of humanitarianism, I decided to try and save the little idiot (any mouse that comes into a house with 7 cats and a dog isn't a rocket scientist...). So, I proceeded to empty out the cat's food dish and moved the basket. The thing just sat there - apparently exhausted. I put the upside down bowl on the thing and left it there.

I then placed a quick call to Amber. Her first reaction was as expected - "ohmygodthere'samouseinmyhouse". Then, her animal-loving instincts took over - "gotta touch it" was the next thing I heard. So, I get out the old fish tank and, with the help of a magazine, get the mouse into the fishtank. I put a spot of water and a nugget of cat food in there, and mouse proceeds to munch on the food, shit a few times, and generally just sit there.

Later that night, Amber comes home and is enamored by the thing. However, it's apparently exhausted and can barely keep itself alive. So, we stuff the fishtank with some TP, put some birdseed and catfood in there (note: This is all being done for an invading, disease-spreading rodent), and then let the little guy sleep - we think he's going to die, so we figured to make his final hours comfortable. However, there is a growing fear that the mouse won't be released. That he'll become a permanent addition to the family. This is driven by the extreme care that's being taken with his health and safety, the 'ohhhhh it's soooo cute' comments that come about constantly, etc.

The next morning, the mouse is up and running, ready to get out. He seems to be completely over whatever was ailing him the night before. So I take him out to the field and let him go.

End of story - or so we hoped...

About a week later, Amber is up and ironing stuff first thing in the morning and she sees a little mouse run behind the washer. Of course, the initial reaction is still the same "ohmygodthere'samouseinmyhouse". I get the phone call as I'm on my way to my first appointment and we discuss this (note - the first mouse was considered cute and lovable - something that must be touched, coddled, etc.). This mouse isn't considered cute. It is an Invading Rodent that Must Be Evicted Promptly. The humane mouse trap thing (no glue, snappy bars of steel, crushing jaws of death, etc.) is baited with peanut butter and set out.

After the first night, no mouse. We figure that maybe he's escaped, but we move the trap to another location just to be sure.

The next day I come home, have a bowl of cereal and proceed to start watching TV. Then Amber comes home and notices something on the floor in front of the cat tree. The next thing I know, she's standing straight up with her hand over her moutn saying 'ohhhhh - what's that?'. Looks like a crushed red M&M from where I'm sitting, but what do I know, so I'm back to watching the history of something or other. Then the squealing starts. And then the jumping in place. The noises of disgust. A yell or two at the cats. More jumping. More squealing. A frantic grab for kleenex's. Apparently, this current Invading Rodent wasn't fast enough... All that is left at this point is most of it's face, with a little eyeball sort of attached. Hence, the squealing and other carrying on.

Somehow, the cats and I are all being yelled out for eating the mouse (and me, because I've been home for about an hour and sitting about 7' from it without noticing). Now, everyone is about to get dewormed.

At least there's a bright side to this (unless you're the mouse). At least one of our cats isn't broken...