As per ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fennishjournal's request!
(I will note that in HINDSIGHT, I can see that there were plenty of points at which I could have Chosen Differently, resulting in me Not Dropping A Mouse On Jude, but here we are)
So one evening I go up to Pip's room and notice Dingo (our biggest fluffiest cat) staring and sniffing fascinatedly at a toybox, in a way that characteristically means there is likely to be a mouse or a skink or something otherwise Of Interest lurking around there.
I move Dingo aside--did I remove him from the room? Did I close the door behind him? Reader, I did not--and shift the toybox to reveal a very still and nervous looking tiny mouse.
Dingo, being quick on his paws where rodents are concerned, immediately dashes past me and grabs the mouse in his mouth.
I remark colloquially on this turn of events and scoop Dingo up, still with the mouse in his mouth, and carry the both of them downstairs--did I, you might wonder, then take them outside? Did I make Dingo release his captive in the garden? Reader, how can you ask such fatuous questions? Of course I didn't--into the TV room where Jude is reclining--indeed, relaxing!--on a beanbag.
'Jude,' I say, blithely convinced that this is going to work out just fine, 'could you hold Dingo while I remove the mouse from his mouth?'
'...okay?' says Jude, less blithely (with good reason), and as I lower Dingo to their lap he lets go of the mouse and it drops onto Jude, they both freak out, the mouse runs as far under the beanbag as it can and Jude extrapolates themself from said beanbag as fast as possible.
At THIS point I do remove Dingo from the room! Before he claws his way through the beanbag and catches the mouse (again)! Well done, me.
I lift up the beanbag to reveal tiny nervous mouse and attempt to pick it up as gently as possible. I have almost managed this when I fumble it, it runs over to where Jude is standing and hides between their feet, which they very cautiously move so I can grab the mouse again.
I then drop the mouse again. This time it scurries off into a corner crack where it disappears for good. Phew!
By this stage, dear Reader, I am beginning to realise that maybe next time I think one of the cats is stalking a mouse, it might be a good idea to apply a different stategy and technique to my attempted Rescue, and Jude is saying, in tones of surprisingly modest outrage, 'Did you just drop a mouse on me?'. To which I could only, in all honesty, reply, 'Yes, but not on purpose.'
It turned out that upon his ejection from the room, Dingo was Very Disappointed and took himself back up to Pip's room to see if there were any more mice. Fortunately for everyone concerned, there were not.
fennishjournal's request!(I will note that in HINDSIGHT, I can see that there were plenty of points at which I could have Chosen Differently, resulting in me Not Dropping A Mouse On Jude, but here we are)
So one evening I go up to Pip's room and notice Dingo (our biggest fluffiest cat) staring and sniffing fascinatedly at a toybox, in a way that characteristically means there is likely to be a mouse or a skink or something otherwise Of Interest lurking around there.
I move Dingo aside--did I remove him from the room? Did I close the door behind him? Reader, I did not--and shift the toybox to reveal a very still and nervous looking tiny mouse.
Dingo, being quick on his paws where rodents are concerned, immediately dashes past me and grabs the mouse in his mouth.
I remark colloquially on this turn of events and scoop Dingo up, still with the mouse in his mouth, and carry the both of them downstairs--did I, you might wonder, then take them outside? Did I make Dingo release his captive in the garden? Reader, how can you ask such fatuous questions? Of course I didn't--into the TV room where Jude is reclining--indeed, relaxing!--on a beanbag.
'Jude,' I say, blithely convinced that this is going to work out just fine, 'could you hold Dingo while I remove the mouse from his mouth?'
'...okay?' says Jude, less blithely (with good reason), and as I lower Dingo to their lap he lets go of the mouse and it drops onto Jude, they both freak out, the mouse runs as far under the beanbag as it can and Jude extrapolates themself from said beanbag as fast as possible.
At THIS point I do remove Dingo from the room! Before he claws his way through the beanbag and catches the mouse (again)! Well done, me.
I lift up the beanbag to reveal tiny nervous mouse and attempt to pick it up as gently as possible. I have almost managed this when I fumble it, it runs over to where Jude is standing and hides between their feet, which they very cautiously move so I can grab the mouse again.
I then drop the mouse again. This time it scurries off into a corner crack where it disappears for good. Phew!
By this stage, dear Reader, I am beginning to realise that maybe next time I think one of the cats is stalking a mouse, it might be a good idea to apply a different stategy and technique to my attempted Rescue, and Jude is saying, in tones of surprisingly modest outrage, 'Did you just drop a mouse on me?'. To which I could only, in all honesty, reply, 'Yes, but not on purpose.'
It turned out that upon his ejection from the room, Dingo was Very Disappointed and took himself back up to Pip's room to see if there were any more mice. Fortunately for everyone concerned, there were not.
