PJ Nunn
I should've known it was going to be one of those weeks when I woke up Monday, all set to enjoy the holiday, and sat on a mouse that had burrowed under the cushion of my favorite chair by the door that goes out to the patio in the back yard. It was apparently a rather assertive mouse because rather than lying quietly under the cushion and waiting for me to go away, it pushed back, making its presence known. I then totally abandoned my professional persona, leapt from my chair at an alarming speed and proceeded to scream like a girl. The mouse then climbed up on to the arm of the chair, jumped to the floor and ran speedily away.
My youngest son came gallantly to my rescue but then was so bowled over with laughter he wasn't much help. So much for spending some time reading in my room. He then felt led to share the incident with everyone he came in contact with that day, including my brother who called from Little Rock. He, too, found it abundantly amusing and assured me that I'd made his day. Hm.
Figuring my holiday wasn't going to be as relaxing as I'd hoped, I sent my hubby off to the Home Depot in search of more and larger mouse traps and headed for my office where I hoped I'd be safe from varmints of any kind. My desk is somewhat cleaner now.
Once the new mouse traps were baited with peanut butter and scattered about, I felt safer and Tuesday brought a typical "after-holiday" busy day. I used up the charge in the batteries of two phones and we caught three mice who somehow looked a lot smaller than I thought they were.
Wednesday, my dad was having surgery so I was up earlier than usual. All went well with him and my day proceeded much as Tuesday. Several confirmations, more phone calls than I could count, and three more mice caught and disposed of - one lost a valiant fight with my scottie who was not looking out for me, but merely defending her food dish. Another that had found a home under a skein of yarn I hadn't touched in a while looked startled (probably not as startled as I did) when I picked up the yarn and tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately for the mouse, it was too short to get out of the box without the yarn to climb on so my aforementioned son came to carry it outside, far, far away from the house. Sadly for me, but probably not for the mouse, it escaped somewhere between here and there. I don't like to think about it.
Thursday, Dad got to go home from the hospital, in much better shape than when he went in. I once again used up the battery on my phone before I ran out of calls to make and managed to accomplish most of the things on my list of things to do. AND there were no mice in any of the traps. Could it be we caught them all?
I had a meeting Thursday evening so it was almost 9 before I once again found a minute to relax into my favorite chair by the door. I'd only been there a few minutes when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned toward the door. Mouse? No way. Cat? I wish.
It was a raccoon staring at me through the panes of glass in the door. I didn't scream. It was, after all, outside. I did glance up to assure the door was locked, not that it probably mattered. Before I could determine a course of action, if there was to be one, my other dog wandered in and apparently looked threatening to the coon, who took off into the darkness.
I just sat there, thinking it seemed an appropriate end to the week, all things considered. Then I realized that it's not the end. Yet. Yeesh.
Till next time,
