My cat Sugar is an indoor cat. She is a former stray who was found injured out in the country and I assumed when I took her in as a roommate that she would want to go outside once she was healed. Nope. Not interested. Sugar prefers to spend her days and nights lounging, and shedding, on my deep red sofa pillows.
However, there are plenty of parking lot kitties who live outside my back door. They used to have the ability to come into my apartment if they ever needed a place to crash, but once I took in Sugar, those days ended. All of the parking lot kitties are large cats who have already established a pecking order and I just don’t want to subject Sugar, who only weighs 7 pounds, to their rough-housing.
I frequently run across the parking lot kitties as I come and go, and they always try to sneak in my back door. When I turn them away they look at me with what feels like reproach in their eyes. I feel bad that they can’t come in any longer, but my obligation is to protect the cat I have.
This morning, when I ran the litter cookies out to the trash, I found a very dead mouse right outside the door. I understand that some parking lot kitty is trying to woo me with their hunting prowess, and I sincerely appreciate the thought behind the gift. However, a mouse in any condition is not the way to win my affection. I am absolutely rodent phobic.
In the hours since I found the dead mouse, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to plan how to deal with this unwanted treasure.
Since I didn’t see the mouse sprouting any wings to carry it off to heaven, I have to figure out how to get it off my back porch. I thought about sending Sugar out to get it, but I’m afraid she would follow her feline instinct and try to bring it in to impress me. I would hate for that to happen, because I hate moving and immediately moving is the only solution I can think of to having a mouse in the house.
I contemplated reporting the dead mouse to the apartment manager, but that felt a little silly. While I am deathly afraid of rodents and have no problem with everyone knowing that, I hate to appear like a weak female. I know, that’s exactly what I’m being in this case, but I don’t want to APPEAR that way.
I ran a list of friends and former boyfriends through my head to see if I could call any of them. I don’t have any female friends who are less afraid than I am, and while I know some of the ex-boyfriends would be happy to help, I’m afraid they’d take that as encouragement to come back in my life. I’m trying to get rid of a dead body, not re-kindle a relationship.
I have a lot of men who are just friends who I could probably beg a favor from, but none of them live near. Asking someone to drive a long distance to take care of a corpse that’s only about an inch and a half long seems like an imposition. Plus, that would take me back to the part about not wanting to APPEAR weak.
My best hope is that one of the other parking lot kitties decides to move the mouse. Maybe one of them wants to impress one of the other tenants and will use the cold, dead trophy to do so. I also hope the new object of feline affection is more appreciative than I am.
Until then, I am sitting in my living room, trying to figure out how to get out of the apartment without seeing the corpse again. I have to get to work and it’s hard to teach a yoga class without actually being there. While it would be quite cool to use teletransportation, that technology hasn’t had all the bugs worked out yet.
I was raised in a family where if you didn’t acknowledge something you could pretend it didn’t happen. While that may be a flawed coping mechanism when it comes to relationships, it may be the solution today. I guess I’ll lean into that training and walk fast past the little body, with my eyes straight ahead, as I leave.
In the meantime, are there any volunteers who want to come remove the corpse from my back porch?