Other than the fact that I'm mad at Scrag-baby, the event unfolding in my house right now (since 2 am actually) is kinda funny. I woke up an hour ago to scrags running around my room, obviously hunting something. I had already been waking up, running out of my bed from dreams of bugs and larvae in my comforter (I accidentally ate a BUNCH of bug larvae in bad pumpkin seeds today. Now it seems they're haunting me) so I was praying whatever it was 1. didn't come on my bed 2. wasn't too disgusting. Whatever it was was underneath my bed in the far corner. I debated getting down and seeing what it was, but I was barefoot and didn't know what I was dealing with.
Then, the little gray mouse perched on my headboard. The kind of mouse I would definitely find cute if I happened upon him outside, but is perfectly unacceptable in my house. I ordered him to get off my headboard and thankfully he started running around on the floor again. After he got behind my desk, I decided to get down and help. Unfortunately, moving my desk startled scrags enough to look my direction while the little guy ran out of my room.
This posed an entirely different problem. For some reason, the space beneath our doors is quite large and would allow him to pass easily in and out of any room of the house, including my roommates who is on vacation right now. So I got up to open all the closet doors and her door, hoping scrags wouldn't lose interest in his prey.
While I was doing this, I heard a small noise in the bathroom. Hallelujiah! It is the one and ONLY door he cannot fit underneath. I went inside, and after a satisfying flash of gray, closed the door tightly. I then went back, closed the other doors I had just opened, picked up Scrags and locked him inside as well.
Scrags immediately began meowing and pawing at the door. "What the heck, mom? You know I was just locked in a small place a couple weeks ago, why are you locking me in here?" I decided to give him time, and tried to rest. After about 35 minutes, I got up, geared up in my sweatpants and cowgirl boots, grabbed my broom, and went to the battlefield.
After a few moments in our small bathroom, I had the mice running about and Scrags, finally, chasing him. Scrags had him cornered behind the toilet and I was braced in the bathtub with my broom, ready to see him die, when he started making little mouse noises. Apparently, these noises are enough to convince Scrags he is not, indeed, a disgusting little mouse, so Scrags walks over and lays down by the door. Really? You brought a mouse in my house and are leaving it up to me?
So, I stick the broom behind the toilet every time he tries to run back there, leaving him nowhere to go except by Scrags. Now Scrags is interested again, tail moving and the little guy huddled in the other corner by the door, literally 2 feet away. Just then, he starts begging again. What he's saying I can only imagine, "My family of 400 depend on me. Please, please, or they'll all come after you and humiliate you in front of the other neighborhood cats!" Who knows. But Scrags decides its best to just lay down and look at me.
This leaves me, standing in the tub in my boots, armed with a broom and Scrags and the mouse laying on either side of the doorway. Naturally, I start arguing with Scrags.
"Get the mouse!"
"Let me out, I'm not gunna kill him."
"You brought him in the house, you better get him out."
"Just look at him, I can't kill the little guy."
Okay, he's got a point. I looked over at the two on opposite little corners of the room and wished, for just a moment, I had my camera. Thus, seeing the humor in the moment I got up, chased them both to the other side of the bathroom with my broom, and left the bathroom.
Quickly, I gathered Scrags' food and water and put the inside where Scrags immediately started eating (don't worry little guy, I still love you) followed quickly by him meowing and scratching to get out. He's only just stopped.
I hope he'll get bored enough in the night to finish his business with said mouse, but if not, I suppose I'll have some work to do. Casey the mouse-catcher? Not a title I'd hoped to wear, but not the worst of things. Hopefully, being locked in the bathroom for the night is enough to teach Scrags not to make the house his playing-field.
At about 6 am, Scrags was really meowing to let him out. I decided I'd go see if he'd done his kitty job and was met with an empty bathroom. There wasn't a trace of the little guy anywhere! I thought maybe I was too tired to see straight, let scrags out, and shut the door to lock him in in case he wass still there. After looking again this morning, Scrags must have eaten every last bit of him. Way to go lil Mr. Guess time hardened your kitty heart. Shoulda happened like that hours ago :)