Friday, July 26, 2013

The Day a Mouse Came in the House

Before I had Henry, I used to blog a lot about my dogs {see}. They were my babies and I loved them. Then, I had Henry and everything changed. They are still loved a lot, but in a really different way. Its really hard to explain, but they are sort of naturally pushed lower on your list of priorities. 


And, when you've spent every second of your day cuddling, rocking, touching, loving another human being, when you get that human to sleep the last thing you want to do is more cuddling, touching, and loving -- you want to sleep. You adjust, the dogs adjust. And you stop blogging about your dogs. 


Anyway, I recently I was having one of those perfect afternoons. Henry had fallen asleep quickly. The house was quiet. I was motivated and actually getting work done. And -- get this -- even cuddling with both my dogs. Then, out of the corner of my eye I see it -- a mouse in my house. 


I proceeded to freak out FREAK OUT. I jumped up on my chair and started screaming like a maniac -- not even caring if I woke up Henry, that's how serious this way. That stupid mouse ran all over my living room. ALL OVER. It didn't care about me or the dogs. And the dogs, they didn't care about it. 


Eventually, the mouse wandered into my kitchen and I burst out of my chair, grabbed my phone and sat outside in the 90 degree heat for 45 minutes until Henry woke up. When I had to go back in, there was no sight of the mouse. The dogs were staring at me as I paced back in front of the door and barking. 


I was so pissed at these two dogs. Why do I keep them around, if not to protect me from rodents? They are terriers, they are supposed to have a natural drive to kill these things. They just sat there. The mouse was three feet away at one point! My love for the dogs was at an all time low. They had failed me in every way.


This disappointment lingered for several days. Until, Morgan found the mouse. Dead. Not in one of the six traps we set. But neatly dropped on my sweatshirt in my office. So, in the end, the dogs {or at least one of them} came through for me. 

I guess they are pretty great. And I love them. 

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3 comments:

  1. ahhh! A kindred soul! I have no emotional feelings whatsoever about killing a rat - mouse - or anything in the same family line, however far removed it may be (read: gerbils, hamsters, ferrets etc.) and have had some HORRIBLE times when a mouse (or mice or at one point a huge RAT) got anywhere near or in our home. Coincidentally, it always seemed to be when my husband was gone at work, or when he was deployed/working out of state for whatever reason! I am glad your mouse is dead, hope that you don't get any more, and really think you are braver than I am because I don't even want to see the thing dead, if I can help it!

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  2. This is so hilarious! And how wonderful that they killed it for you -- and put it on your sweatshirt haha. I used to love (and board) my sister's dog, but after it crapped on my floor and I cleaned it up at 8 1/2 mths prego, he was gone, never to return (but on a brighter note, I think it induced labor) :) anyways, thanks for sharing!

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