One of my neighbors phoned yesterday. He's having mouse trouble and he wanted to know if he could borrow one of my cats for a few days. He'd already tried trapping the mouse, with no luck. I said no, I couldn't help, even though, yes, I do have two cats. Let me explain...
Years ago, I had four cats.
At the time, my daughter was in univeristy, living with her mom, and they were having mouse trouble. (I hate calling her my step-daughter, by the way. I have been in her life since she was seven so the word step-daughter always catches in my throat and sounds wrong).
Anyhow, she phoned and asked if they could borrow a few of the cats. Thinking this would give the cats some adrenaline racing excitement in their otherwise sadly sedentary lives, I packed two up and drove them over.
I checked in often to see how it was going.
Apparently, not well.
Both cats seemed drop-dead exhausted at the end of each day, but the mouse was still alive and well, scurrying all over. As each day passed, I became increasingly disgusted with my "citified" cats. Maybe I should switch them around and test out the other two. How hard could it be to catch a mouse!?
Then, on the 4th night, I sat up in bed and burst out laughing, having a forehead slapping blond moment. I had had all my cats declawed years ago (a necessity given the repetitive attacks on our furniture) which explained why they were failing so miserably at their assignment!