The department of mousing and urban development

Max vs. mouseFirst off: mission accomplished! A home has been found for the pretty mystery kitten. I’m glad we could, for once, add four legs to someone else‘s family for a change.

It’s very late at night, and I just came back from the kitchen and noticed that an annual ritual has begun that takes place every year when it finally gives up on being warm and gets seriously cold. Every year, Obi and Puck (it used to be Obi and Othello) start camping out in the kitchen and staring intently at every nook, every cranny, every cabinet door. It’s like they know something and they’re not sharing that information with me.

It’s like they hear a mouse or something.

Hitchhiker's Guide miceI’m not inclined to disbelieve them when Portia and Maria are already joining in on this ritual. There must be something to it if the kittens, who haven’t spent a winter in this house yet, are doing it too.

And what precautions am I going to take to keep this possible mouse from getting into the house?

Nothing. Nada. Any mouse that gets into this house will die of a heart attack shortly before being torn to bits and eaten. How do I know?

Because it’s pretty much an established scientific fact that a mouse that sneaks into the house through an open door or what have you will think one thought, and one thought only, upon being confronted with five cats. It won’t even finish that thought, actually. That thought is basically as follows:


Trust me, science has my back on this one. And so do the five cats.

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