You're Waking Up with Your Eyes On Me...

So after serenading Si to sleep last night with a variety of Songs including Rainbow, Nicky Minger, and Boyzone, I fell in to a deep and exciting sleep. 

I was having my tonsils pulled, with little or no anesthetic; the noises I was making would have woken the dead, and as I wasn't dead, it woke me - and then I realised that the noises were not me, but coming from outside. 

I lay and listened and decided that by the noise the cat, for it was the Fat Cat, was making she must have been badly beaten up in a fight, or run over.  I lay and waited for Si to wake up and hear her also, because the noise itself was similar to that of a banshee calling for her next victim. 

Si was not to wake, even with the added incentive of a gentle (ahem) kick to the arse. 

I Got up and waddled (for I do waddle of a night), down stairs and opened the front door; a lively, non-beaten cat ran in the door at high speed and then swiveled round, like a well trained dog to heel and sat at my heel and peered round the corner of the door too. 

I decided it must be Bean who was injured and Beau was calling for help - and this was verified by Beau's patient demeanor by the door with naked mother. 

No sign of Bean, so I went to the back door to see if her almost lifeless body had reached the rear of the house.  

I opened the door and gazed in wonder at the sight that is the 400 fairy lights we put up for Tooli's Party (no I am NOT taking them down), and as I stood and reassured  myself that  Bean was neither dead or injured, I realised that I had lost my companion. 

But said companion was entertaining herself.  She was running up and down the hall chasing the FRIKKIN MOUSE she had brought into the house with her. 

I whimpered and ran on tiptoe to stairwell and shouted "SIIIII  SIIIIIII  I have done something Bad". 

"Groan". 

"I have let Fat Cat in with a mouse, and both of them are running round hall"

"SQUEAK". 

"I think mouse is dead now". 

"Snigger" from Tooli. 

Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.   Past me on the stair, grabs cat by scruff of neck, throws cat out.  Unrolls half a roll of kitchen roll, picks up now deceased mouse and heaves it out the back door too. 

Now said mouse was dead when it went in the bin.  

So she must have got another one - it's head was on the doorstep this morning. 



Picture isn't of mouse or cat, but my lunch, which is neither.  It was fish and coleslaw - which I loved, but not so much everyone else around me now.