Mousers

What are these two up to?
They're probably just messing with my brain... something Lester (the little guy) particularly enjoys.
He likes to sit outside the bathroom door and cry. And cry. And yowl.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, I climb out of the tub to let him in.
And he sits there.
Just sits there.
Now that he can come in, well, you see, he's just not all that sure he really wants to.
I close the door.
The yowling begins.
Open it... and Lester shoots off like "striped lightning" down the hall.
Lather, rinse repeat.



So the other morning when Lester and Fannie became preoccupied with something under the stove, I initially chalked it up to cat shenanigans.
Then I began to wonder... there isn't really something under there, is there?
Surely nothing more than a fur forest and maybe a grape?


Then on Saturday, Fannie continued the beneath-the-stove obsession. Fortunately, Michael had not yet left for Hawaii, so I asked him to pull the stove out to check for... gasp! ... mice.


For some reason, Michael didn't take the situation quite as seriously as the girls and me, insisting on, of all things. finishing our taxes before checking on the rodent situation.
Men.

Fannie stayed on guard...



ever vigilant.
All doubt disappeared when she started making hunting noises... clicking... clicking ... clicking...
Finally, taxes done, Michael and Stephen pulled out the stove to reveal... mouse droppings and the bewhiskered nose of our winter invader.
I quickly called the exterminator, my voice quavering just a little as I requested service as soon as possible. Yes, anytime Monday is fine. Anytime.
God, just please hurry!
This isn't the first time we've had unwanted wildlife in the house. We once had a mouse nest in the TV cupboard, we've had chipmunks invade our basement, and of course, my favorite, the bat invasion of 2005.
You'd think I'd be somewhat used to it by now, wouldn't you?
Since the exterminator apparently doesn't work on weekends - the nerve! - Michael bought a couple of traps. The girls were concerned about whether they were humane traps, how they worked exactly, and couldn't we just catch and release?
Um. No.
As far as trap construction and efficacy, I encouraged a don't ask - don't tell approach.
I don't know whether the traps caught anyone, since Michael left in the predawn hours yesterday. I don't even know where he placed the traps.
Fortunately, the cavalry should arrive sometime today.

But it's 9:36 right now and the exterminator has yet to call.
To say I'm a little on-edge would be an understatement.
Every time a cat's gaze lasts a little too long or one of the dogs becomes too interested in what's under a couch, I cringe.




Meanwhile, Fannie and I just wait and watch. One of us is excited. The other, ridiculously freaked out.
I let you decide which is which...