My parents' cat became a hero in my parents' eyes today. He caught a mouse. A itty bitty baby mouse. I'll admit that mice don't belong in houses but I couldn't help but be a little sad when the cat caught the mouse. He enjoyed catching it, you could tell by how much he played with it. I was trying to eat lunch and I begged my parents and my husband to move the mouse. Maybe, throw it out in the trash, or how about a nice burial at sea in the toilet. But no, my mother just smiled while praising the cat and saying "He caught it, he's entitled to play with it." Needless to say my lunch was put on hold.

My mother insisted I just eat and not watch. That's kind of impossible isn't it?? How can you just sit down, eat a meal while a cat is mauling a mouse and tossing it into the air?? I think hearing the mouse hit the floor would be the hardest to ignore. To make matters worse the mouse didn't die right away. He moved a bit, struggling to live despite the fact that this tiger in a cat's body was glaring at it just waiting to pounce on it's prize once more.

I begged and begged for them to move the mouse. I couldn't stand watching it suffer. The cat was treating it like a hockey puck and he was the hockey player holding his hockey stick (AKA paw) waiting to slap it across the room. Finally my mother said to just give the cat a few more minutes. My father was shacked up in the bathroom reading the newspaper. Speaking of which, why is the bathroom the place to go if you want to read?? Is it because you're sitting there, and you need something to occupy your mind instead of thinking about what's really transpiring?? I nicely asked my father to hurry saying he was occupying the cemetary and we needed a proper burial at sea.

I wonder now what exactly was going thru that cat's mind as it watched the mouse. Probably something along the lines of "Come on and move you little mickey mouse wanna-be. Come on and move so I can pounce you and retake you as my trophy." The final straw for me was seeing the mouse on it's back, belly up. I was really worried the cat would try to eat the mouse and make a mess all over the place which would do wonders for my appetites I'm sure. My mother insisted though that every mouse the cat has caught has not been eaten. That got me wondering just how many mice have their been in my parents' house.

The cat must have sensed I was not liking the show and tossed the mouse in my direction. Okay...that kind of freaked me out. I can look at a live mouse but seeing a dead one being thrown at me and plopping down in front of me. Sorry, I have to draw the line there. Did the cat think that maybe I would get into the show more if it was moved to where I was??

My husband finally took the mouse and tossed it out. Not exactly the kind of farewell I'm sure the mouse would have wanted but I don't think it could complain much. My husband, walking back said "There, now a cat will eat it tonight." Just what I needed to hear as I was about to eat lunch. I was having hamburgers, not the best thing to be eating when there's a dead mouse in the house. Everytime I looked at them while the cat was playing with the mouse I remembered that scene in "Demolition Man" when they eat rat burgers.

I'm curious how many mice are left in my parents' closet where this one was found. This mouse looked like a baby and I'm sure he didn't get in there by himself. Well if my parents' cat has his way he'll be getting them all in no time.

One little thing I found particularly amusing was that my mother bought mouse traps less than an hour before the mouse was caught. Maybe my parents' cat saw the mouse trap as competition. That it was a race to see who would get the mouse first??