Shall We Name This One Mickey?

We never found Beau's chipmunk/playmate/prey from last week. Apparently, he never found it either. I guess Beau got lonely.

So today he brought us a mouse. A LIVE one. Of course.

I'm still in bed, and Dan is in the bathroom. It's about 6:00 a.m. I hear the now-familiar urgent, loud "M-E-E-O-O-W-W" coming from the other room. Hideaway is on the bed with me (we're having our morning love session), so I call out to Dan, "Hubbie, I think Beau's got another critter."

So Dan goes into the other room (our office), and sure enough, I hear, "It's a mouse!" And, "Wifey, are you gonna come help me catch it?"

Me? Hm. But I'm drinking my coffee. And Hideaway is resting against me, so I can't exactly move. Besides, I am not properly dressed for a mouse-chase. Neither is Dan, but that's beside the point.

But I couldn't have helped him. 'Cause he and Beau lost the mouse sometime within the next ten seconds.

I had to laugh ... Dan, exasperated, is saying, "Beau, where'd the mouse go? Beau? Listen to me ... Beau! Beau, where are you going? Wifey, he's going back outside! Just like that! He doesn't care!"

Ah, yep. Been there, done that.

Later, Dan told me, "What's amazing, Wifey, is that you recognized his 'I-have-a-rodent' meow."

Well, of course. A mother knows her own child.

We'll keep you updated on this latest in this intriguing new development.

Aren't ya glad this isn't one of those boring political news blogs? ;-)

Aren't ya glad ya don't live with us?


Anonymous said…
Gwen is having second thoughts with a mouse on the loose.

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