Mouse Hunt!

This evening's entertainment was provided by Henry, who brought a live mouse into the kitchen and dropped it at my feet while I was trying to make the dinner.

I made a grab for the mouse (.. fear not - I was wearing rubber gloves at the time) but missed. The mouse was surprisingly quick on its feet, given that it had just survived the trauma of being carried into my kitchen in the jaws of a cat. The dratted rodent ran up my arm, over my shoulder and back down onto the floor, where it then shot behind the fridge.

There then followed a full scale search and rescue mission which involved rearranging half the kitchen and dragging the fridge out away from the wall. I sent Ninja in to flush out the mouse from behind the fridge, but he could find no trace of it.

My biggest fear now is that the poor mouse will curl up somewhere in the house and die from fright. We will then have a repeat of last month where I spent three weeks in the house being driven demented by blue bottles.

Cats! Can someone remind me why I thought having two of them in the house was ever a good idea?