We’ve been having some mouse adventures here at the homestead lately, the most recent of which concluded this afternoon with Johnny emerging from the bathroom, squeaking mouse clamped proudly in mouth, and me carrying the cat carrying the mouse out into the backyard. There I prevailed upon him to drop the rodent, which looked about stunned and did not move away with any great alacrity. Whether it will survive this incident I do not know.

I’ve always wondered about the expression “game of cat and mouse,” because in my experience it’s not much of a game for the mouse. The interaction tends to go like this:

1. Cat pounces on mouse, holds it down with paw and/or picks it up in mouth
2. Cat releases mouse, which scurries away to the best of its ability
3. Repeat step 1
4. Repeat steps 2 and 3 until mouse expires from heart attack and/or sheer exhaustion
5. Cat gets bored and walks away

Most domestic cats can’t be bothered to consume anything they catch, unlike the semi-feral cats at the house where I lived in the Berkeley hills during college. I have a vivid memory of them catching a fairly large rat which 20 minutes later was nothing but a tail.

If you’re thinking there must be a point to all this, you are sadly mistaken. This is just me turning a black number red. It’s Monday, after all.