There are three cats in my rural home. They are all fully functional and quite well catered to. It took them over 48 hours to simply flush a mouse.
One day, Ziggy was paying a lot of attention to one of the return air grates for our furnace. So, being the best cat assistant I could, I grabbed a screwdriver and opened the grate. She grabbed the resident mouse and took off.
I was able to confine her in the laundry room with the mouse. By then, Ruby and Mojo had joined in on the chase. So I closed the door and expected to return shortly to find three triumphant felines and the spoils of their efforts.
When I returned, three cats were peering under the washer.
Okay, so we wait.
First night, nothing.
And we wait.
The next night, in the middle of the night, there was a commotion. The mouse had been cornered by all 3 cats in the powder room. So I closed the door to the tiny room and expected to return shortly . . . (see above).
I had to open the door because Ziggy was scratching to be let out of the room. Apparently she was bored.
I just left the door open and figured we’d have to set a trap to look after our unwanted guest.
When I walked into the dining room this morning before my coffee, the cats were sitting in a circle, and there was the punch-drunk mouse, crouched in the middle, plotting its next move.
They had ONE job.