i’m proud that my 15 year old cat with a broken fang is still happy to mouse, but i’m getting real worn out waking up to mouse carcasses. 

i know she’s caught one because she yells about it afterwards. her geriatric voice makes it sound like she’s screaming in pain. i always fall for her tricks and wake up out of a sound sleep to make sure she isn’t actively dying, then she runs at me with a mouse in her mouth to deliver her present. 

we didn’t have mice in my previous house. we had hornets and those centipede-looking things.. silverfish? i’m not searching for the image to confirm because i hated those more than anything else. hated them so much i didn’t even want to learn their name. in the mountains, everyone has mice and it’s totally normal. i also have bats that sleep on the roof overhang, voles that bury in the moss below the porch, birds that visit constantly. none bother me at all – just yesterday, i spent a solid hour catching a mouse to release outside before the cats got them.

mice are actually one of my favorite animals on the planet and i’m a little honored to coexist alongside them. i kept mice as pets for many years when i was little and we solidified a bond to last the rest of my life. they’re gentle, curious, intelligent. i don’t get very many mice in this house, but every now and then a few move into the crawlspace. i’ve only found mouse poop twice in five years. they don’t get into the bags of oats i keep, nor do they eat the seeds sprouting on the counter. i don’t know why they come in, really. maybe they’re just seeking warmth or exploring. 

i’m impressed that cats know how to kill them instantly and with relatively little suffering. i am also glad that this old house cat gets to experience some thrills in her elder years. but waking up to dead mice is always a real weird way to begin the day.