Cat Tale

My parents have a mouse in their house. This is apparently a big deal. They're all freaking out about it. The exterminator came over and put down some "humane" traps and tried to get the little bugger. No luck. In the mean time, my dad named him Mickey Rat. They're basically pals except that one hides all the time and is frightened by the mere idea of a human. And the other is Mickey Rat.

I kid.

Anyway, in the process of attempting to get this unwanted guest out of the house, my dad got the brilliant idea to get a cat. He's always wanted one. We had cats throughout my childhood, but they were usually given away fairly quickly because while my mom LOVES kittens, she HATES cats. She can't even be near them. They scare her, and she is usually a whisker away from hissing when there is a cat nearby.

My reaction when my dad called me and told me that they got a cat was fairly similar to my every other reaction when my parents call me.

"You guys are effing nuts."

They named the cat Phred. His name was apparently Fluffy, but they didn't like that for a male cat. Apparently, they also don't like the letter "F" because they decided to recreate the spelling of a fairly simple name. They adopted him from a shelter, which was good. He is sweet and friendly and loves attention. My mom will even snuggle with him... for a minute or two. Then she walks away and washes her hands.

Anywho, Phred pretty much gets run of the house because his job is to be the Lara Croft of behind-the-fridge mouse habitats. The dogs are relegated to their crates while Phred meanders around the house and goes all nanny-nanny-boo-boo to them.

What my parents didn't think about is that the house had these "humane" traps hidden in corners, and cats can get in corners. Now, granted, the traps couldn't hurt a cat, but they could, say, stick to him like the worlds most terrifying and massive Post-It.

...And one did.

I was at their house wasting time when I heard the cat mewing like a preteen at a Bieber concert. I found him behind the dog food containers with his paw in... something. I had no idea what it was. Every time he moved, the thing came with him. He could not shake it. It was funny, but it was also scary. The poor puddy tat!

I managed to free the cat. Thankfully he is a trusting animal who let me maneuver his paw as necessary to get him out of the sticky prison. In the process though, the nearest curtain got attached to the big sticky mat, and we had a whole new situation. 

Damn it.

I attempted to release the curtain, but it was attached pretty tightly. My college education did not prepare me for this kind of real world sorcery. My dad came over and managed to make some progress, but eventually he walked away. I went back at it to only make it way worse than it was before. 

My mother came over and instantly had a meltdown about the destruction we were doing to her curtain. 

You're welcome for saving your cat's life. Jeesh.

Mom and I attempted to detach it together, but lacked the upper arm strength to really show this sticky mat who was boss. My brother came in and attempted to help. It took all three of us and a whole lot of patience (which we all lack) to finally free the curtain from it's elastic turmoil. 

Humane trap my butt.

For the record, this so-called humane trap was able to trap 1 cat, three humans, 2.5 college educations and a whole lot of pride in its grips, but nary a mouse was to be found.

Maybe mice are the superior species after all.

Also, as my brother pointed out, the Critter Catcher Caught the Cat. Say that 10 times fast.

On to the next adventure.

It's hip to be square, kids.