Kat with a K

Unwelcome guest

I live in an old house in the middle of the woods. I am used to the occasional mouse. I can usually deal: I leave traps in a few of their favorite spots; I'm careful in the kitchen and make sure I wash anything I'm unsure of before using. I don't like it, but I deal.

Tonight was different. Tonight Dewey found his first mouse. But he didn't kill it. (That I could have dealt with.) It got away. And I'm not sure where it went. Or how hurt it was. I am hoping against hope that it wasn't very hurt, and got outside. Or that if it did die somewhere, I find it before too long. I keep thinking I see it out of the corner of my eye. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep. The kitten is still pretty freaked out, too.

I must say that it's at times like this that I'd give almost anything to have Defulct back... or, honestly, just someone else in the house. I like living alone, much of the time. Except when I really really don't.