The One That Got Away

This post brings up a mixture of emotions. Mostly those of embarrassment. It is the story of a sunny quiet afternoon on the ranch. We got back from church, Ella had fallen asleep and so I brought her up to her room. I took Reesie out of her car seat and laid her on our family room floor, close to big kitty Tank.

Strangely, Tank was not lazing around. (as I write he has stuffed himself into Spencer's paper sorter on his desk, and earlier this morning I found him snoozing on our stacks of towels in the bathroom) He was positioned by our armchair, ready to pounce. Hmm, I thought, as I lifted the chair, sure of what was underneath. Right away Tank snatched up his precious catch and carried him back to our exercise room. I took Reese upstairs for a nap and consulted with Spencer as to how to rid our house of the mouse.

First, I couldn't believe I grabbed my camera. But I wanted to show Ella the mouse, because she has spent days outside looking for them in our wood piles. So I snapped away while Tank contained her in the room. When I decided that it was time to get them both out of the house, and so I picked up Tank, who held the mouse in his mouth, and walked toward the door. Once there, I put them down to open the door. Just as I turned the knob, Tank took one sweeping bat at the mouse, propelling her underneath our dryer.

After lifting both the washer and dryer and having no luck, I decided that for now, this mouse has won.

yuck.