And etc…

Today I realized my dream of having an animal in the house. Of course, I meant a pet, but apparently fate or God or Mother Nature decided that a mouse would do just fine. It ran over my bare foot while I was doing the dishes. Needless to say, I was not pleased. It then went under the oven for cover. To the best of my knowledge it’s still there. I blocked its exit (the one I know of) with a towel.

Obviously, when the mouse assaulted me I called Matt, thinking he would have a logical plan of attack. He suggested trapping it in a bucket and then he told me he’d call me right back. An hour later, after which I had lost years off my life due to stress, he called back. I was expecting some aid a bit faster. During the down time, I attacked the bottom of the oven with a flyswatter while holding a bucket. I’m not quite sure what I was planning to do if I actually lured the mouse out of hiding, but I had a bucket. I suppose I could use it as a shield or something. I also put some shoes on so it wouldn’t bite me, which I was informed it might do in the meantime. Great.

So at the moment there is a wild animal loose in the house. I left it under the oven for Matt to deal with. This event left me so disconcerted that I went to the Laundromat without detergent or dryer sheets. Of course, this could’ve happened without a friendly visit from Tom the mouse. Or was Jerry the mouse? I was never clear on that since they didn’t actually refer to one another with their names. So…why did they have names?

In other news, I went “fishing” last weekend. Yes, I had a fishing pole and bait and the bait was in the water, but I was secretly, I hope at least, hoping that I wouldn’t actually catch anything. Matt caught something (a northern, whatever that is) and I sort of freaked out. Not in an excited “yay” way, but in a “get that the hell away from me” way. It had teeth. And Matt commented that it could rip your hand to shreds if you reached in there to get the hook out. He then threw it back. So I ask, why bother catching it in the first place? Sure, there’s the sheer joy of watching me be scared, but that can be easily done at home, as evidenced by the mouse incident.

I just feel sorry for the fish. It’s as if we’re toying with them. If someone hung a Snickers bar from the sky, I’d probably try to get it. Stupid desire for food. It gets us every time. I also went “swimming” (or drifting) in the same lake, Lac Courte Oreilles. Those fish with the big teeth live in that lake. Good thing the swimming took place before the fishing.

I have decided, after pretty much no deliberation, that wild animals are not our friends. People say that they’re more afraid of me than I am of them, and if that’s the case, I feel really sorry for them. However, it’s hard to believe. If they really fear me, why are they trying to live with me? Is this a case of keep your friends close, but your enemies closer? What are the mice planning… ack. I tremble at the mere idea of a mice rebellion. They would certainly win. I hope they can’t read.