The Cats Pay Their Rent

Or at least, one of them did.

Early Sunday morning, we uncharacteristically woke to the sound of our cat Cosmo sitting inside a plastic storage container in our bedroom, playing incessantly with a toy, as our other cat Merlin watched in approval.

Jen awakens several times and yells at him, "Cosmo, cut it out! We're trying to sleep in for once! Go downstairs and play!" But he ignores her and keeps slapping his toy against the walls of the plastic tub.

He finally crosses a line, and Jen gets out of bed to go over to him and shut him outside the room. "Ahh!! Jay! Wake up, Cosmo caught a mouse!"

Having been oblivious to all of this in my usual slumber, I groggily raise my head, and peek in the tub. "No, that's just one of the toy mouses we have for the cats. Go back to bed."

Suddenly, Cosmo removes his paw from the toy and we both see a tail that is much too long for the fluffy little pet store mice strewn about our house. Close by were two small but very distinct red splotches in the tub.

Yes, it was a real, honest-to-gosh, formerly living "Mickey" (as Rocco used to say). A mouse in our house. And whether it was Cosmo or Merlin, both cats were both clearly presenting their kill to us as a morning treat, surely expecting accolades and awards. It was hard to explain to the cats that people do not necessarily enjoy waking up to dead mice.

The oddest part of the experience is that there have been no signs of mice in the house. No chewing, no pooping, no nothing. Who knows where he came from? This weekend we packed up all of the holiday decorations, and completely cleaned and reorganized the basement. A lot of stuff was moved around. Maybe he slipped in from the garage (where we definitely have evidence of mouse). In any case, somehow our cats (both of whom are without front claws) caught the mouse, and delivered him. Ain't no little mouse living in this house!

And so, just a few days into 2009, the cats have already paid their rent.