Just Call Me the Rodent Whisperer

Rachel, you might not want to read this post. You've been warned. ;.)

Back in September, a friend of ours came to stay with us for a few days, just to hang out. She lives two hours away, so visiting generally requires an overnight stay.

A few days before her arrival, as I was merrily preparing the house for her, this thought invaded my consciousness:

I bet Calvin will catch a mouse, the first night Kendra is here. I hope she's okay with mice.

Huh? What the?? Friends, there is no reason why I should have had this thought. We don't have a problem with mice. Calvin has caught exactly one mouse in the three years we've lived here. But have the thought I did. And then I finished dusting.

And she came to us, hooray! I'm blanking on what we did together that night, but surely it was lovely. And then, we all went to bed, she in our room downstairs and we in the library upstairs.

The next morning, as I lay in bed in the dark, languishing and happy, I heard

Rustle, rustle.

Rustle.

Clunk, rustle.

Clunk.

Clatter, clatter.

Clunk-rustle.

Oh, Calvin. Such a pill in the morning when he wants to be fed. So, up from my grave I arose, and down the ladder (our house has a ladder to your house's stairs, because it's cool like that) I went. Close the bedroom door, turn on the lights.


Aaaaaaaand this is what I saw:

Mommy's little hunter.

Oh, mother nature.

We watched him play with it for about half an hour before scooping the poor dear up into a shoebox and liberating it to the out-of-doors. Calvin refused to speak to us for exactly 20 minutes. K slept through the whole thing and appreciated the photos, as I figured she would. She's pretty dang tough.

So, apparently, I am mouse-clairvoyant. My fee is $129.95, plus travel expenses, for a complete assessment of whether your cat will catch a mouse in your house in the next few days.