Today, there’s some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that after a brief warm spell (really brief – as in, a few hours yesterday afternoon), it’s pretty darn cold around here, and it’s gonna get colder (and windier). The good news is that while we’re going to get a little snow, folks in Western New York and our friends to the north will be getting “feet” of snow. As in, blizzard conditions “up north.” I just hope that the bad stuff stays up there and away from us.
In other news, I haven’t checked the traps yet so I don’t have the overnight tally, but as of about 9PM last night, we’d bagged seven mice in our storage area. I found a dog food bag nibbled on out there, and we decided to declare war. That doesn’t include the one headless mouse that showed up on the living room floor the other morning or the two from the traps in the drawers in the laundry area.
As I told the cats – it’s Humans 9, Cats 1. If they expect to keep getting fed, they need to up their game. Mouse traps and peanut butter are a lot cheaper.
I’d prefer not to kill the little bastards, and I sprayed a lot of fox urine around the basement and garage areas (which reminds me, I’d better re-treat), but there’s really no reasoning with them and now that it’s cold out, they’re looking for a nice warm comfy spot to shit and piss in while chewing it to pieces.
Oh well, I guess I better go check my traps and see what’s for breakfast.
Click the turkey.
Do it up.
Clifford the cat is 10. I’ve had him since he was 3 weeks old. He was so young I had to bottle feed him as he thought a bowl of mild was for standing in. So, no one taught him to hunt and yet, this morning, he killed his first mouse. He’s been waiting for that mouse for weeks, sitting on the kitchen floor and staring at the area around the dishwasher. He brought the poor mouse into the bedroom where he and the other 3 cats sat in a circle and stared at it but when Mike went to pick it up Clifford grabbed it. Mike picked up Clifford instead and he and Cliff, with the mouse in his mouth, made for the bathromm where much to Clifford’s dismay, Mike flushed it down the toilet.
Good Job, Clifford!!!
That’s pretty good for a City Cat.
Silly humans just don’t understand the kitty circle meditation you & your friends were performing over the trophy.
Mean Man flush mousie!
And yesterday I got a call from my absentee neighbor. I had written to him because the bamboo he planted is growing into my yard and although I cut it down at least every three days, back it comes. Turns out absentee neighbor is a dope. I proposed to him that I would pay to have it dug up in my yard if he would do the same in his yard. This produced much howling and protesting. He kept yelling and telling me he was a lawyer and not allowing any conversation. But the best was him saying, “You must be a Democrat. I know you are a Democrat. I’m a Republican.”
Now I have to go back to the town hall to see what can be done with my absentee, REPUBLICAN neighbor.
Well, if you have to have a Republican dope neighbor, it’s better that he’s absent. It was always best when our crazy nazi facist republican neighbor was away when we were at our previous location. The fact that she stopped being absent was actually the impetus for our relocation.
Wow, Buffalo (to be more precise, just south of Buffalo) is getting absolutely dumped on. Four feet of snow so far, and they’re expecting another two feet. Over 100 miles of the NY State Thruway closed. I hope Sean doesn’t have to drive through this, wherever he is.
That’s some crazy snow. We got 3 inches and it closed the place down. We had 30 roll-over accidents. These Okies just don’t have a clue how to handle snow.
Vern, your new home is sure a cutie!!! I agree, dump the cat, even though Clifford is trying to redeem the abysmal mouse-catching skills at PJ/RG’s house. A Terrier would be far superior and it could ride the ferry with you.
True the terrier could ride the ferry and perhaps catch the mouse, but he could not do so without a lot of yapping. And, although he can ride, he needs to be walked, on the other end of a leash, several times a day. Good exercise for you, never enough for the terrier.
If the terrier owned and was the captain of the ferry, would that make him (or her) a terrier ferrier?
Oh, Mersey!
Cross the Mersey with Gerry the terrirer ferrier.