Living With a Killer

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Sadly, I am yet to be brought one of these mice.

It’s official – my sweet little kitten who loved playing with his ‘Mr Fish’ toys has gone and been replaced by a cold, bloodthirsty killer. Indeed, it’s fair to say that the last seven days have been a series of adventures with rats, mice and half-dead baby mice. And as a result, my nerves are in tatters!

It all started last Wednesday when Theo brought in his first ‘present’ for us – a live rat that promptly wedged itself under the fridge freezer as soon as it was released from the jaws of its captor. I can’t stand rats and would much rather he had brought me a pizza. For 30 minutes, a farce ensued as Steve and I attempted to coax the creature out from under the fridge freezer. Well, I say coax but I don’t think my approach – involving tortured, guttural screams every time I actually thought about the thing running out from under the fridge¬† – worked too well. It just resulted in Steve jumping out of his skin repeatedly at the sound of my screams and the little blighter under the fridge refusing even more firmly to come out to meet the wailing banshee waiting for it. It didn’t help that I was stood there post-shower with scarecrow hair, clutching a broom that I had used to poke under the fridge. Talk about witch-chic.

Anyhoo, sadly the rat didn’t leave the house with his life in tact after we accidentally squished it whilst trying to shake it out of the fridge. But that was that, once the incident was over we naively thought we could carry on with our lives.

How wrong we were. Little did we know our feline friend had developed a taste for this kind of stuff and decided to take his reign of terror to the next level, when he excitedly rolled through the cat flap at 1am on Monday morning with a dead mouse in his mouth. He attempted to bring his kill upstairs but was intercepted halfway up. Forty-five minutes later, he returned with a half-dead baby mouse that he dropped into his food bowl. ‘Mercy me, this cat is insatiable!’, I thought.

For the rest of the night, Theo was locked outside and since then, I have been approaching my cat with extreme caution every time I see him, afraid of what he could have dangling from his mouth. Every time I hear the rattle of the cat flap, my heart fills with dread.

Apparently this evening, whilst I was out, Theo brought another little mousey friend that Steve managed to successfully evacuate with its life still in tact.

I guess we should get used to this brave new world we are now living in. My ‘little baby Theo’ is gone. We are now living with… a killer.

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