Deadly Mousie

Yes, it's true I'm not looking my furry fierce self at the moment. The phrase, "I might look bad, but you should see the other guy " is appropriate.  Though it would be difficult to see him at all, as I ate him. There in lies the problem. This mouse (or what was left of it) loved my small intestines, so much that he wouldn't leave! With the help of the fine folks of The Emergency Pet Care and near $4000 later, Mr. Grey Furry Mouse with the deadly plastic form was forcibly evicted.

I’ve always been a “chewer”. Mum covered all the wires, scrutinizes all things that seem interesting to me, inspects each cat toy and when something is a possible danger, puts it out of reach. This has worked well, uptil now. Mousies were a tough one, they are my favorite toy. I love to play fetch with them. Eventually I get tired of playing fetch and want to settle down to a good chew session. I’ll bring the mousie over to my food area and drop it in my dish. It is at this point that mum retrieves the mousie and makes it disappear. 

 Come to me, come to me, I'm hypnotizing you with my feline fractal lenses...

I must have found this one under the couch, cabinet or inside of one of the many discarded shoes, that litters the place. Concerning the shoes, I’ll say three words, “eighteen year old”. I found this furry fellow, when no one was around and had gotten as far as eating the head of the delicious treat when mum caught me and took it away. She was not happy to see the headless toy rodent. She knew she’s have to keep an eye out for possible tummy trouble.

I was just fine for a couple of days. I continued to stalk Oogie and pounce on her butt, because she’s fast and I am never quick enough to land on her head, grab with my big fuzzy paws at anyone passing by me hiding in my lair, under the dining room table on a chair, and lets not forget my loud incessant meows to go out in the backyard, no matter the inclement weather.
By day three, I started to throw up. We all know that cat’s throw up. Mum became concerned when I threw up EVERYTHING including water for 24 hours. It was the Sunday of Presidents weekend, she decided to call our regular vet Dr. Lee anyway. He confirmed her suspicions when she mentioned I  also had not had a poo in 24 hours. He suggested I make a visit to the emergency pet place.

 Yuk I know, this was the actual piece in my small intestines. what does this say about mum?

After a day spent hanging out in various rooms of the pet hospital, it was determined that I have surgery. Long tail short, I was to be released the next evening if all went well. Mum came the next morning to visit me at the hospital. She brought my favorite food, which I gobbled up in spite of the satellite dish that was around my neck. 

This was a good sign. They thought I’d be able to leave that evening for sure. I had other ideas about that. I had a plan. It was a two prong attack; cuteness and extreme cuteness. My best weapons. I started with the, wide eye, uplifted pink nose gaze. This always worked on mum. This was the perfect plan, but I had not taken my present state of confinement into consideration. I was having trouble getting their attention and making eye contact. So I would put my fluffy white paw through the cage and bat all the passers by. Mum got a call at 12 noon, “we think Kokoro wants to come home, he’s batting at all of us.” Within the next 30 minutes she was there! Such powers I have.

That was two weeks ago I’m doing really well. They removed my staples, yes they stapled me! Mum moved my tower back into the bedroom and took all the stuff off of it that keep me from climbing it. I had my first game of rollicking wild chasing and zooming with Oogie and my furs are growing back so nicely. The sad part, no more furry mice. Interesting to note, even before I ate the mouse, mum had been making me toys that wouldn't kill me if I ate them. Now she’s even more motivated.

Enjoying a beautiful sunny day in the long over due trimmed "grass".