So apparently we have mice. Again. Not as pets, or to feed to a pet snake, or to experiment upon, or for whatever reason people bring mice into their homes on purpose. I don’t know. Folks are weird.
Anyway, Car has scattered mouse traps—baited with cheese, of course—throughout the house (in places the kids can’t reach, of course) in an attempt to catch the mice. Two of the traps are in the cupboard under the kitchen sink where we keep the garbage.
Enough with the background.
Today Car emptied the garbage (Thanks, babe!) and as he was replacing the bag, he (understandably) left the cupboard open.
Tigger’s great passions include:
- Peanut butter
- Belly rubs
- Running out the front door every time we open it (for some reason, every time he does this I imagine him yelling in his head, “Viva la resistance!”)
Tigger is so stealthy that neither of us noticed him make his way toward the open cupboard.
As Car and I chatted…SNAP! Tigger zipped away. Fortunately, there was no yelping involved, so he appeared to have escaped unscathed.
Car: Poor Tigger! Here, take the cheese.
Tigger trots into the other room to consume his treat.
Me: Don’t reward him for setting off the trap! Stupid dog.
Car: Why is he stupid? He doesn’t know any better.
Me: I know, I know. He’s not stupid. Poor dog.
Car: Okay, he’s stupid.
*He’s also very lucky. Two encounters with mouse traps, zero injuries. We contemplated seeing if he’d try for “third time’s a charm” but instead opted for the path that ensured no visits to the after-hours vet.
**Really, WordPress Proofreader? You don’t have Tigger in your dictionary? Shame on you. How would Christopher Robin feel?