Heaven is high, and the emperor is far away. There is a battle underway at Fishwick Manor.
Last week, a real one of these was discovered in our baking pantry (couldn’t bear to put up a picture of the real thing. Beastly!):
I shrieked and shut the cupboard as it retreated through a hole in the wall.
I opened the cupboard again, slowly and surveyed the veritable field of poops left behind. We realized that the old idiom is true. We never had any problems with a mouse before but Sue had been away while we were out of town for the holidays. Could it be that he was our protector from such pests?
Yes. Our Sue kicks ass.
As soon as he returned home the next day, Sue was immediately in hunter mode. He would lie in wait, staring up at the cupboard for hours on end. On Sunday he was on a full stake out. He was in the living room instead, in a pouncing stance by a small hole in the wood floor. This hole is where our furnace pipe descends. For almost a whole day he sat there. He wouldn’t respond when we would talk to him or call him. So unlike our Sue! Usually his hunting is out of our sight, only evidenced by the occasional dead bird proudly brought to the front door. We’ve jokingly nicknamed him “our little killer”.
Long story short, Sue caught the mouse. I heard him making all kinds of noise downstairs just before I was leaving for church on Sunday evening. I came down to find him with the live mouse dangling from his chops. He would let it go for a second and bat it around. His eyes were wild. We had quite a skirmish downstairs as I attempted to get Sue outside with it. Finally I was able to sweep the mouse out the back door with Sue quickly trailing behind.
Off they went into the snow.