You know, I've lost touch with our collective roots. And it's my business to be in our roots. That's what I do (archaeologist and heritage consultant -- part time). But my whole life I've been confused about something. We don't have cats and dogs in our lives because people thought they were cute and cuddly and fuzzy. We have them in our human lives because they do jobs for us. Or at least most of them used to. Now we have them because they are cute and cuddly (often), but in the past, the relationship started because it was a good relationship for both of us (the animals and the humans).
Cats are around because they keep down the vermin. And my cat is good at it. I've posted on Facebook when she first left me a kidney and some feet on the back deck (that I stepped in with my bare feet - thank you, Jack). And I've posted when she's barfed up the previous night's catch. And I most recently posted when she brought home a squirrel. I really like those cute little critters that she kills and I thought of her as mean and heartless. But I loved her in spite of her murderous ways.
But the game has changed. Last night was not a good sleep night for me. I got to bed early, but woke up when my husband came to bed (I also had to pee), then woke up when the cat was playing with something in the hall outside our bedroom. Almost got back to sleep after that one when I smelled smoke! Don't know where that was coming form. Then got up to watch T.V. for a while. Fell back asleep around 1, and then, at 2 a.m., I woke up thinking I had heard a noise, and Jack, the vigilant hunter that she is, shot off my lap into the office. Then I heard the noise again. And again. I wasn't imagining things, it wasn't coming from outside and the cat was checking out the garbage can. I had put a chip bag in there yesterday, and now the bag was moving of it's own accord.
Okay. You can guess what it was. I knew it before I came in here ... a mouse ... in the house. I love the little critters when they are outside roaming in the tall grass ... far away from the house -- they're so cute and they have those beady brown eyes. But they come into the house and I have a problem with that. I grabbed the chip bag, held the top together and took the critter out to the back yard - the back of the back yard. But, sure enough, this morning Jack had a mouse cornered close to the house. I still had to save it from her, but I really shouldn't. I should just let her hunt ... and do her job. So I will. Sorry little cute grey mices - you're on your own.
I have no idea how the mouse got in. But I'll be cleaning up the office today, checking for mouse holes - and making sure all the food garbage goes into the closed kitchen garbage can (there's a reason for that lid other than keeping the smell down), and making sure the compost bucket always has it's lid on. And that there aren't critters getting into my flour. I'm not really grossed-out by it, I just don't want this to become a habit. And I wonder how long they've been in the house. And where the nest is ...