So Daisy doesn't go out much in the winter. Too cold she says. Well, a couple weeks ago, she did and when she zipped back in the door, unusually fast and kind of surreptitiously, we didn't really take notice. A little later, we heard her bounding around in the dining room with a lot more animation than usual. What's up kitty? Went to check. She was busy stalking the baseboard radiator.
"Did you bring in a mouse and let it go?" I asked.
She smiled, flicked her tail.
"Well you'd better catch it," I told her.
She so relentlessly stalked that radiator all night long and never once came and snuggled up on our bed. Next morning she was still at it. I reminded her that she had better catch it.
Somewhat later, through the corner of my eye, I saw her chasing it across the floor and into the kitchen and not long after, she was sitting there licking her chops. Thought she caught it. Good Daisy. Hope you enjoyed your breakfast.
A few days later, there was this odd little aroma in our bedroom. Went around sniffing all kinds of things. Couldn't define it.
Next day it was worse. It was like hitting a wall when I came into the bedroom but the smell was nowhere else. Two days later, during a screaming blizzard decided to air out the room. Closed the door, opened the windows, got a wintry blast. Closed the windows. Figured that would do it. Came back half an hour later and the smell was just as bad. What on earth is it?
Two nights later, we'll say around 2:30 a.m. I had a brainwave. Funny how our brains keep chugging away even in the middle of the night. Mouse it said. Maybe the darling pussy didn't catch it after all.
Next morning, moved a few things away from the rad, got a flashlight, well actually my cell phone, and shone it up and down the length of the radiator. Ah ha! There it was, slowly being mumified by the heat. All right, how to get it out. Wasn't about to stick my fingers in there. Kitchen tongs were too clumsy and didn't fit. Ah ha, needle nosed pliers. Resurrected a pair and fished around until I extracted it. Very tiny mouse. Very dead. How could something that small create so much smell? Dropped it into a bag, not taking the time for an autopsy, and out to the garbage. Shut the bedroom door, opened the windows to let in the wintry blast. Shut the windows. Came back half an hour later. Ahhhh, no smell. Had a further gentle talk with Daisy Mae about not bringing wildlife into the house. Ended with, "Sweetie, you have lots of toys. Stick to them. Thanks for the nice Christmas present though. It's the thought that counts," though her tiny little Christmas present does not compare with the arrival of the Son of God on that amazing night 2000 years ago.
May all the Joys of this Christmas Season fill your heart today and always.
Copywrited Karen Rempel Arthur