Cat-astrophe

You know that saying "Eat a live toad in the morning and nothing worse will happen all day"? Well, I have an addition to that statement.

I woke up Thursday morning, swung my legs out of bed and stood up. I stood up on... half, ack just HALF of a dead mouse. Bleah!! If that isn’t bad enough it STUCK to the bottom of my foot. After the involuntary shudder, cursing and scraping off of the mouse, I was giving serious thought to boiling my foot in Lysol, and then following that by a nice soak in bleach.

My cat, Luna, then came to investigate the commotion and to stand triumphantly over her kill. "Look mother, I have succeeded in slaying the cat eating monster that has resided behind the stove! Aren’t you proud?!" her expression seemed to say. I, however, was less than impressed as I picked up the remains of Mr. Mouse with a paper towel. I took him and the cat (notice how when your not happy with your pets all they sudden they are THE CAT, or THE DOG) I pitched both of them out into the yard and hurried off to the shower. (For the record 1/2 a dead mouse will fly about 33% farther than one panicking cat)

Oh don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled she is doing her job. But for my sake, PLEASE deposit dead monsters near, in, or around the trashcan. Oh I know!! I need to train her to erect small flashing neon signs "Partially masticated rodent ahead" or "Watch your step" with a picture of a headless squirrel stenciled on yellow plastic sandwich boards.

Anything! Anything at all that will prevent the muzzy headed, first thing in the morning, "did I just step on part of a jelly sandwich?" thought that went through my head at that time…