So there was this cocky little rooster - you know the type: auburn feathers with a cape of metallic blue-green, resplendent tail, and a strut that said, "Chicks. The line forms here." He wouldn't have bothered me except that he took up residence in the middle of the street that leads to MY street. And it's a busy intersection. Dude was there every day, stopping traffic, impressing local birds, moseying around like he'd brought about world-peace.
I called the cops on him.
His standing there posing for a photo-op nearly made me rear-end the 4x4 in front of me. And honking did nothing. He glared balefully at us human-work-slaves and then slowly, sl-owww-ly, sauntered over to the side, acting like he just went there because he saw breakfast. He was a menace, and I turned him in. But by the time the police got there with their little rooster nets--He was gone.
I haven't seen him since.
I think he's probably hanging out with the mice I've been hearing under my cupboards lately. They keep eluding my peanut-butter traps. And the ultrasonic pest repellers don't do anything but give them a good beat to dance to.
Oh, the mice are taunting me. I killed ten of their kind a few months ago simply by putting traps under my sink. Took them all out in under an hour. Thought I'd won. But they've been biding their time. Mocking me. Scratching beneath the floors when I am in my office below, knowing that I know they aren't falling for the traps and I can't do anything about it. I think it's the rooster's fault. He's in there with them. And he's getting back at me.
I wouldn't mind so much, except that I believe the mice and the rooster have been influencing my socks. Only half of them are coming out of the dryer each day. That's right: one from each pair. Just . . . gone. Got a whole drawer full of useless half-pairs. I'm pretty sure they're hanging out under my cupboards. Having a party with the mice. Overseen by the rooster. Trying to slowly drive me crazy. But it won't work. I've got a rotisserie-pellet-gun-sock-stretcher, and I'm ripping up floor boards.
Those dirt-bags are going down.
6 comments:
Janiel you're too funny. And what is it about socks disappearing anyway, huh??
Okay, I am not coming to your house...mice?!!! And more than one? I had one mouse in my house last month. Couldn't sleep at night for 2 days until he was caught. I just get the heebs with mice.
This reminds me of a pet goose we had when I was a kid who'd follow me to the bus stop every morning and then stand in front of the school bus and refuse to move.
Cathy - I'll send them out to play in the backyard when you come over, K?
Maegan - that is hilarious! What a great story.
Oh my goodness, this post made me laugh till I snort! Freaking funny Janiel. I especially loved the mice traps giving off a dance beat.
And Maegan, I love the goose following you. My cat Tigger did that for me :)
I believe you. I have seen the same afore-mentioned rooster. And we have also had mice, a while ago, and they've never come back.
The best trap? An empty garbage can (no liner, only slick plastic sides) with a peanut butter covered chunk of bread in the bottom. Mouse dives in, can't get out. The only problem? You have a live mouse in the morning.
But that's where the cat comes in.
And yes, cats really do play with their food.
Yes, in our tv-deprived state, we enjoyed deranged hours of entertainment with this routine.
Oh, wait, we did have tv back then...must be our overexposure to tv violence.
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