Magrat Garlick's Wet Hen Club

So, 2 nights ago I was woken up at 4 o'clock in the morning by the sound of all hell breaking loose coming from underneath the bed - not a pleasant feeling when you're still in it. After a few seconds terror, panic and heart palpitations I fumbled for the torch and tentatively peered under the bed . . .
. . . to find that one of the cats had brought in a live field mouse and decided that the best place in the whole house to release the poor creature for a game of chase, was right under the bed that I was sleeping in
First cat was then joined by two of the other cats, all three now chasing the terrified mouse around the underbed boxes and at the same time fighting, hissing and spitting at each other for getting in the way of getting at the mouse. Eventually one of them catches Mr Mouse and legs it in to the bathroom. Having recovered enough to be sure I wasn't having a heart attack, I stumble after and manage to eject three fired up, mouse-killing fur-balls from the bathroom. After much kerfuffle and building of barriers behind the loo using bottles of various cleaning fluids, I manage to coax Mr Mouse into a small box and take him downstairs to put him in a small rodent carrier I keep for such occasions, so that he can recover a bit before being released at the end of the garden in the morning.
In the morning, I go down to see him before breakfast and find that the little bugger had escaped!
So, now I had a mouse loose aboot the hoose . . .
Feline activity later that evening seemed to indicate that the little chap had taken up residence behind the junk shoved underneath the stairs. One of the moggies had taken up guard duties and was refusing to move. I left them to it and went off to bed. Same cat was still on guard the next morning so I assumed the fugitive was still at large. Left cat on guard duty and carried on with the day.
2.30am the next morning I get woken up by one cat growling at another and then a scuffle in the bath. Stumble blearily into the bathroom to find that guard duty had paid off and said cat had caught the poor old mouse and was chasing it round the bath. Cat saw me coming scooped up the mouse and ran off downstairs and into the living room - I made it to the living room just in time to see the cat release the bedraggled little mouse for a new game of cat-and-mouse. My arrival distracted cat just long enough for the mouse to have it away on his paws underneath the sofa and (I hoped) out of the air vent at the back as he was nowhere to be seen. Yay for Mr Mouse!, I thought, free at last, and went off to bed.
Came downstairs this morning to find three murderous moggies all fascinated by something in the fire-hearth. As there's usually nothing more interesting in there than a basket of pine cones, I had the sinking feeling that Mr Mouse hadn't escaped and was now once again cornered and hideously out-numbered. A few minutes later and a little be-whiskered nose and a pair of beady eyes peeked up from behind a pine cone and regarded me desperately from behind an enclosing circle of calculating cats.
Being a self-confessed Wet Hen, I couldn't leave the poor little chap to his fate - especially after he had managed to survive so many repeated maulings and was still making valiant attempts at escape. I set about building barriers to herd him into a cardboard tube, which is not easy when you've got three cats all trying to beat you to the mouse at the same time. I popped a few peanuts at the end of the tube to encourage him in, but after half an hour: nuffin'
So I tried with a bit of buttered toast and a few minutes later heard some scratching and checked the tube, but I wasn't quick enough - the little bugger had been in and out of the tube and pinched the toast!
Developing a sense of deep admiration for the determination of this little mouse, I baited the tube with some toast again - this time with the toast at the very bottom of the tube - and waited, hovering ninja-like mere inches from the tube. A few minutes later, I heard scratching and grabbed the tube like a flash and SUCCESS!!!
After three days and two nights of repeated cat-maulings, near-death cat-chases, valiant escapes and bids for freedom, and cheekily stealing bits of toast, I am now very happy to report that Mr Mouse has been successfully released into the leaves at the bottom of the garden, where he took a moment to have a wash and a good sniff about, before scuttling off to freedom.
Live long and prosper Mr Mouse - you are one tough mousey!
. . . to find that one of the cats had brought in a live field mouse and decided that the best place in the whole house to release the poor creature for a game of chase, was right under the bed that I was sleeping in

In the morning, I go down to see him before breakfast and find that the little bugger had escaped!


Feline activity later that evening seemed to indicate that the little chap had taken up residence behind the junk shoved underneath the stairs. One of the moggies had taken up guard duties and was refusing to move. I left them to it and went off to bed. Same cat was still on guard the next morning so I assumed the fugitive was still at large. Left cat on guard duty and carried on with the day.
2.30am the next morning I get woken up by one cat growling at another and then a scuffle in the bath. Stumble blearily into the bathroom to find that guard duty had paid off and said cat had caught the poor old mouse and was chasing it round the bath. Cat saw me coming scooped up the mouse and ran off downstairs and into the living room - I made it to the living room just in time to see the cat release the bedraggled little mouse for a new game of cat-and-mouse. My arrival distracted cat just long enough for the mouse to have it away on his paws underneath the sofa and (I hoped) out of the air vent at the back as he was nowhere to be seen. Yay for Mr Mouse!, I thought, free at last, and went off to bed.
Came downstairs this morning to find three murderous moggies all fascinated by something in the fire-hearth. As there's usually nothing more interesting in there than a basket of pine cones, I had the sinking feeling that Mr Mouse hadn't escaped and was now once again cornered and hideously out-numbered. A few minutes later and a little be-whiskered nose and a pair of beady eyes peeked up from behind a pine cone and regarded me desperately from behind an enclosing circle of calculating cats.
Being a self-confessed Wet Hen, I couldn't leave the poor little chap to his fate - especially after he had managed to survive so many repeated maulings and was still making valiant attempts at escape. I set about building barriers to herd him into a cardboard tube, which is not easy when you've got three cats all trying to beat you to the mouse at the same time. I popped a few peanuts at the end of the tube to encourage him in, but after half an hour: nuffin'
So I tried with a bit of buttered toast and a few minutes later heard some scratching and checked the tube, but I wasn't quick enough - the little bugger had been in and out of the tube and pinched the toast!
Developing a sense of deep admiration for the determination of this little mouse, I baited the tube with some toast again - this time with the toast at the very bottom of the tube - and waited, hovering ninja-like mere inches from the tube. A few minutes later, I heard scratching and grabbed the tube like a flash and SUCCESS!!!
After three days and two nights of repeated cat-maulings, near-death cat-chases, valiant escapes and bids for freedom, and cheekily stealing bits of toast, I am now very happy to report that Mr Mouse has been successfully released into the leaves at the bottom of the garden, where he took a moment to have a wash and a good sniff about, before scuttling off to freedom.

Live long and prosper Mr Mouse - you are one tough mousey!