For the last three years, I've been joking about how it's a good thing our cat Aria is friendly, because she wasn't earning her keep. It wasn't her fault– inexplicably, this century-old house hasn't had any mice for all this time. (It's not really that inexplicable, because there are hordes of stray cats outside, a challenging gauntlet for any mouse that wanted to find its way to our house.)

Well, last night Aria was unusually active. I figured it was pent-up stress from us having an overnight houseguest a few days ago. When Hil left for work at 8 AM, Aria was sitting on the floor staring at the ceiling. "Cats, who can figure them out!" Then at 8:30 there was some thumping. I arose at 9 AM (hooray for vacation), and quickly discovered a dead mouse in the corner of the kitchen. Aria was sleeping on a comfy chair, looking very pleased with herself. The mouse had made its last stand hiding under my full-sized suitcase, and the thump was caused by little Aria shoving it aside. The suitcase weighs twice what she does, so I'm impressed.

I disposed of the rodent's remains, and gave Aria extra petting. She wasn't interested in play later that day. I'm not sure if she was tired out from stalking the mouse all night, or if she has decided to put away childish things.

UPDATE: Three days later, Aria is playing with a live mouse. That's not good. We want a mouser, not a cat with live toys. We're going to have to get traps after all.

Posted by: Boviate at 05:11 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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