The death of a mouse...

Like most mornings at home, I came down from my bedroom looking for the cats. Boomer was curled up on the love seat taking a nap. I thought this was a good sign.

I looked briefly for Thunder, but didn't see her. Also a good sign. I let out Skeeter, and waited for him to return for his breakfast. That's when Thunder miraculously appeared. I have no idea where she was, but she showed up in the middle of the floor.

I fed the dog, and made some coffee. I'm in the middle of a sewing project, so there are a lot of fabric scraps under my dinning room table. However, there was a grey piece under the table that caught my eye.

I'd been nervous about grey fuzz for about a year. Greg told me about seeing a piece of mouse skull, last winter, on our dinning room floor. I've been waiting to see the remains one day.

As with last week, I was too tired to look at it. Again, I figured that ignoring it was my best option. After 1/2 hour, I got my coffee and realized I needed to check it out and see if it was mouse. As I got closer, I swore I saw whiskers and and eye. UGH!

I still wasn't ready to deal with it. So, I ate my breakfast, took a shower, and went to church. I should have been paying attention to the wonderful sermon, but I kept thinking about that grey fuzz. I knew I had to deal with it when I got home. However, I was hoping Skeeter would have dealt with it for me. I just didn't want to see it.

When I got home, I grabbed a wad of paper towels and headed to the fuzz. AHHHHHHH! It was a head! AAHHHHHHHH!

What did I do? I ran into the kitchen and called Greg. He suggested that I get a shovel and sweep it in to the shovel and toss it out of the house. So, off to the garage I went. I emerged with a long handle shovel and the garage broom. I didn't want mouse guts on my kitchen broom!

I took a few deep breaths, and went in for the sweep. It was nasty and bloody! There was a tail too! AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Skeeter ran to a corner, because he thought my screams were brought on by him. See, I was letting the cats know that they really didn't make me happy right then. They didn't care.

So, after about 30 seconds, the head and tail were on the shovel and out of the house I went. I threw them off the deck, hoping a raccoon or ferrell cat will like the remains as a treat, so that I don't have to see them again.

Did I put the shovel back? Nope, it's still on the deck with the broom. They are tainted now. OK, not really, but I just don't want to think about it anymore.

This is only the beginning of mouse season. I'm dreading this season. I'm sure that by the end of the winter I will be able to deal with all of this just a little bit better.

Have I made it clear that I HATE mice?