Sylvia and I were on the phone talking with our son Scott. It was Sunday evening and as we chatted about the previous week’s activities, I noticed midnight intently watching the pantry door. Sylvia saw it too. He squatted there with his rear end twitching. He had seen something.
Then he sprang to the door and swiped his paw under it. Out came a little mouse. Oh what fun!
Midnight had to play with his catch. And he did. On the laminate floor and then on the carpet.
I’ll spare you the rest of the details. A couple of nights later, he found another by the clothes washer. Good kitty! Since then he caught another in the mud room. Those are only the ones we know about.
I hope I have that kind of cat
Nothing like a black cat in his prime. He is a sleek and mean mousing machine.
Hooray! I'm guessing the poor thing died from fright, right?
Thank goodness he is still a mouser. My neighbor's cat gave up mousing right when she got one in her house. She is ready to KILL that cat!
Poor mousie. Although mousies do not belong in the house.
Way to go, Midnight!! Although the little mouse looks so cute…
Oh my goodness, I never thought I'd think that about a mouse!
Livvy goes bananas when she hears the mice in the walls. But they dare not enter the premises, lest they become mincemeat.
A good mouser is a treasure!