Nice quiet night, approaching 11pm. I'm minding my own business, listening to reruns of Grey's Anatomy in the background while working on a layout change for one of my new sites.
Suddenly the house is filled with flying fur and the thundering of feline hooves. STAMPEDE! I start to dive beneath my desk.
Oh wait. No. Just one cat, not quite flying, and the thundering is actually a small stack of cardboard boxes being knocked about by a flailing tail. But that one cat is The Cat, and is hellbent on catching up to something. I peer into the darkness toward the kitchen where the galloping continues.
Cats gallop weirdly. It sounds a lot like a nine-year-old with a new drum kit. Random bashing, some experimental cymbal shots, an offbeat attack on the bass drum with one foot, all accompanied by wild-eyed giggling that usually lasts until a nearby parent shouts "ENOUGH ALREADY!" Since I know we hadn't recently acquired a drum kit for The Cat, I keep my silence and remain vigilant. I reach for my flashlight as a precaution. Who knows - The Cat could be herding zombies my way.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a teensy dash of light tan and a minuscule tail which quickly vanishes behind a floor fan caster. A field mouse, a bit shorter than my thumb, cowers shivering, eyes squeezed shut. The Cat marches up to my side and sits down as I train the flashlight beam on the terrified captive.
"Now what?" I whisper. The Cat shakes her head and examines her paw. She has delivered a prisoner of war to headquarters; her work is done. Her interest in the subject will vanish as soon as she collects her tuna reward. I bend down, restraints in hand (aka Yuban coffee can), and gently coerce the tiny creature to safety beneath its loose lid.
Out on the porch, I ease the mouse onto the welcome mat. It staggers around in an ill-defined circle (about the size of a two pound Yuban coffee can), then gathers its wits and races screaming into the desert night.
No doubt the tales around the campfire will be slightly embellished as to the size of its captor, The Cat, the length of its fangs and the persistence of its attack. Its jail cell will have shrunk from two minutes in a two pound Yuban coffee can, to the size of a small chipped coffee mug, where it was fed nothing but bread and water for 22 agonizing days of solitary field mouse hell.
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