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.

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2 Responses

  1. Carol Bruess, St. Paul

    … Or you could do what I did (because my husband hates cats, even the sly and nimble neighbor’s feline): adopt a tiny dog, the size of a cat, who was bred to chase the rats out of sewers/tunnels/pipes. So I did. And named him Fred (a big name with even higher expectations).

    What did Fred do that first fall? It wasn’t pretty. The sight of a mouse sent him quivering onto the sofa, nervously watching me (on the same sofa – feet high in the air) screeching “OMG! Someone get the mouse!”

    This might just be the one time cats rule and dogs drool.