Looking for a place to stash the Christmas tree in David’s shop, I knocked a few things on the floor. One item, the heavy base of a now defunct office lamp, rolled off the shelf and almost landed on my foot. Poor me, that would have broken a few bones. As it was too heavy for me, I asked David to cart it out to the trash bin.
It was then I spotted a bird-cage shelf I had removed from behind the dryer and tossed a week or so ago.
I could have sworn we took this to the trash last week, I said.
Look at the brass screws, says he. I can use those for something.
Chuck it out I demanded. So he did..I think.
I hope he did. We have been making progress with our big clean-up and de-mousing. He is helping me because he doesn’t want another cat. As I am allergic to them, so we won’t get one, but I don’t tell him this. I let him worry a bit.
How about another dog? Big Al got a swell new dog.
I have packed all the vulnerable items in plastic containers and I know we have done a good job because the mouse only found one dried-up apple last night…his little teeth visible around the mouse sized bite in the otherwise untouched apple. I don’t think he like it. Good housekeeping reduces his find. At last David sees the point of cleaning.
I am not alarmed, having lived with mice for over 30 years. I never had them until I married David and the mouse population has waxed and waned since. The first 20 years or so, the three cats killed them. I came home one night to find Bob Cat swallowing a mouse whole. When I pried his jaws open to see what he had, little legs and a tail disappeared down his throat. Cats are great, but I can’t have a cat.
How about I get a Rat Terrier, I ask David.