One for sorrow?

The KC has twigged we are going away soon. The sight of suitcases brings her out in a rash of very uncharacteristic cuddles and a noticeable increase in the more characteristic carnage (did I mention the recent snake?). Gifts of dead birds / mice / frogs etc are just her little way of showing me just how much she loves me. So I really shouldn't've been that surprised, as I was pottering about this morning changing the bed for her catsitter (who she adores) & piling stuff up for our much anticipated Scottish summer holiday, that the KC surpassed herself. I heard an almighty screeching coming from downstairs. Good grief I thought, that’s a very loud Magpie – in fact you’d think there was a Magpie actually in the house based on that noise .... then a very loud & pointed MEOW floated upstairs & I thought – uh oh, hang on and ran downstairs into the conservatory where I saw the KC furiously rushing up & down in front of one of the sideboards & heard flapping & LOUD screeching & saw lots of – well bird cr@p everywhere – and suddenly saw an enormous beak pop up behind said sideboard attached to a fledgling Magpie!! How on earth the KC had managed to catch this thing was beyond me – it was almost as big as her (see honest to scale images) but more scary was its general pointy-ness / spikey-ness – it seemed to be all claws & beak & shrieking! Hubby was packing for a quick biz trip before hols which meant he heard nothing as he can actually honestly only do one thing at a time & if he’s packing it means he can’t hear, so I had to think quickly before blood & feathers joined the bird poo. Opening all doors & windows in the conservatory (but not the roof windows, no time) I managed to ‘persuade’ the ‘little’ magpie out from behind the furniture. Now here I am trying to save it & what does it do? Flies straight into the only closed window! Oy vey! Slightly dazed it then realised that a whole double door was wide open & finally flew back out into the garden but then perched back on the trellis from where it had been originally nabbed by the KC! Who was now back lying in wait... DOH! So I ran after it & shooed it off to the top of the leylandi. One of the few places the KC cannot get to ... then relaxed a little... although the KC is now fossicking about in a clump of Montbretia; lord knows what's next on her "this will show mummy I love her" list.

I saw a mouse – where???

There under the nest of tables!! About the size of my thumbnail, all big eyes & ears, shaking in the corner whilst the Killer Cat (KC) scratched furiously trying to move the tables, mewing like her life depended on getting this poor tiny thing! Ever the vegetarian, I got on my hands & knees & peered under the table legs & could see this tiny weenie thing & realised I had to hatch a rescue plan. I needed to distract the KC with treats and my sincere voice – no really kitty, little mouse has gone! Took a while but distracted she was & finally wandered off into the garden. So I then got my ice cream tub (with lid, used frequently for escapes from KC), the fly swat & thought oh simple. Will put tub down as the place to run & swat gently & hey poncho! One saved baby field mouse. But stupid mouse didn’t realise it was being saved & instead of sensibly shooting into the open tub it went hell for leather across the floor of the lounge. Yikes! I then did a hands & knees scouring & as I was doing so KC came back and decided to lend a hand – but no, little mouse had (or so I thought) saved itself. KC sniffed about a bit, got bored & went & lay in the sunshine. Life then continued its merry way – episode of Neighbours, the Radio 4 comedy slot, dinner & a night sat out in the glorious cool of the evening with some neighbours talking cats (they have 2 and female half of couple is thrilled she is no longer crazy cat lady – there are now 2 of us!), life & the universe, happily gossiping not noticing the quantity of alcohol or the time until – cripes that’s 3 bottles of wine and it’s midnight!! So off we staggered to bed groaning slightly but thinking oh well at least we’ll get 6 good hours. Oh no. Of course not. Our own personal Tom & Jerry cartoon started up about 4am. Mouse had decided to stage a comeback not realising the KC was lying in wait. First came the thundering up the stairs, followed by KC yowling & Mouse squealing (a lot of noise for such a tiny thing!) then there was the thud of our door being barrel rolled open, then a great scratching & then jumping onto the bed (KC not mouse) & then scrabbling under the bed & then the light went on & cats name was called sternly then – silence! Nothing. Nada. Nyet. Hubby & I peered under bed, we checked under furniture, lifted cushions. I went into the hallway. Nothing to report. Called out again to KC – to be met with silence. Hmm. Was it a bad dream? So shut door firmly & went back to sleep. Hungover & exhausted we roused ourselves at 6.45 and opened the door expecting carnage. Nope. All was as it should be. All we got was a good telling off for having shut KC out. But then she didn’t head straight out this morning as she normally does which is a slight worry. She is currently sniffing about under cupboards & looking in shoes. Could the mouse really still be in the house?