In Like Flynn

As a convert to (I love the Posts feature), I have learned that Flynn Hall has mice. Join the neighborhood. Our area is rife with rodents. If they have bushy tails or long ears, it’s, “Oh, aren’t you sweet? Have a bon bon.”

Over the years, I have had my experiences with the sleeker, squeaker variety myself. My advice for the Flynn residents is to get an illegal cat.

My neighbor has Sophie, a very good hunter, so I have no problem. Of course, I did have to pick up to two “presents” at my back door recently, and the birds are none too happy, but I don’t have mice running across the kitchen floor.

In autumns when my neighbor hasn’t had a cat, I have enjoyed rodent company. One year it was so bad that I even dreamed about mice. In one dream, the mouse weighed about 200 pounds and was six feet long. I thought to myself, “How will I ever get rid of him?” Finally I hit on an idea. I put on some ballroom music and asked him for a dance. Mr. Mouse donned his top hat, stood on his hind legs and grabbed his cane. I waltzed him out the front door and banged it behind him.

The next weekend when I went down to the basement to do laundry, I looked in the toilet.  There was a bloated, drowned rat.  Honest.

Bless you, Sophie.  Visit anytime.