[This is a true, funny story about animals that has nothing to do with Theology, Bible Study, Counseling, or Christian Living. I wrote it as an e-mail to my wife before we were married, and she asked me to post it. So here it is . . . a cat and mouse tale. No pun intended.]
One night, I was sitting in my room watching a movie, when I saw a mouse just run out in the middle of the floor and then run behind the bed. Determined not to let this one get away, I stuffed a blanket under the door and ran outside to find my secret weapon--the snot-nosed cat. Actually, there are three cats that keep constant vigil on our doorstep with snotty noses because I guess they have sinus infections. We don't really have names for them, but this one is the snottiest nose of all. Some of the kids call this cat Tetris. I really don't know why. She didn't come in pieces, and there is nothing rectangular about her.
After a few minutes of frantic searching, I found Snotty the cat in the doghouse. By the way, she is the one who bit my nose and whose tooth went up my nostril. I took her into my room, and I started moving furniture, while she peered around every corner. We had this mysterious connection going on. It was as if she knew exactly what I was doing. Every time I would move something, she would walk behind it to inspect. At different times each of us accidentally got stuck to the same glue mousetrap that I had laid down so we both lost a few hairs during our search, but neither of us ever felt our lives were in serious danger. There is a hole in the floor under my bed, and I wanted to make sure the mouse did not escape through it so when we searched under the bed, I took a bowl I had just eaten macaroni and cheese out of and turned it over upside down and placed it over the hole.
Snotty and I continued our search until every piece of furniture was moved and nothing was left on the floor in the closet or under the bed, but still no mouse. I decided to pick up the bowl so I could wash it, but what happened in the next instant was quite a surprise. When I lifted the bowl, a mouse ran out. Apparently, the mouse had run down the hole before I had covered it up with the bowl. The bowl still had cheese stuck to the inside so when I put the bowl down, the mouse came back up the hole to eat the cheese. When I finally lifted the bowl, the mouse darted back and forth a couple of times and then a paw sprung out from underneath the bed, and that was the end . . . well, at least close enough. A few more games of cat and mouse yet to play, but Snotty had detained the troublesome mouse, which was now only a few moments away from its last breath. Once the cruel torment of the prisoner was concluded, I took Snotty and the body of her victim, which I carried by the tail using toilet paper to avoid contact, outside. I first set Snotty down on the porch. Then I presented her with her trophy, which she probably did not eat because she had already eaten enough of the Marshall's dog food. Oh well, at least now we can all sleep better at night thanks to Snotty. I think she earned a tissue. Achoo!
