Mouse Hunt

Last night, while I was dishing up tea (rainbow trout, broccoli and new potatoes), the cat (Polly) brought a mouse in. Polly seems to be reasonably proficient at catching rodents and birds, but doesn't seem to know what to do with them once she has them - she lacks the killer instinct perhaps. We turned our living room upside down looking for it but to no avail.

This morning I found Polly staring intently our DVD tower so I sealed off the living room and the cat and I spent the next hour smashing about trying to catch the little bugger. At one point I managed to corner it behind some shelves which are flush with the floor; I reached behind them and felt fur. The poor little thing was in a panic and breathing heavily, and Polly still seemed to think it was under the rug, so before grabbing hold I decided to try and soothe it a little by stroking it gently. That's when it bit me, hard enough to draw blood! Eventually, having chased the mouse through the maze of speaker wire behind the TV, Polly manged to scare it into an overturned bag of wrapping paper, which I was able to pick up, the mouse still inside, and rush outside with before Polly knew what had happened. When I got back inside she was still stalking around our upended sofa looking for the mouse.

With the furniture in disarray, and all those embarrassing hard to clean areas on display, I decided it was a good time for a bit of a spring clean. It's now four o'clock and I've probably managed half a spring clean I'd say. I am going to invest some serious time in the concept of a self-cleaning house I think - cleaning and tidying is hard work, boring and never ending.