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Saturday, January 29 2011

I have absolutely nothing to say in my defense.  I stand over dead people for a living. But still . . .

It was a typical winter morning in Texas. The temperatures were mild. There was standing water in the yard. And more rain is predicted for tonight. The morning was spent dealing with new lambs and moving hay, thus, it took me a while to notice. But there were signs . . .

There was this.

Each time I popped into the house I saw her.  Secret is the house cat, so that shouldn't have been unusual. Thus, it didn't ring any bells.

There was this:

As I went about my business outside, she tagged along at a distance. But Faith is a barn cat, so that didn't ring any bells either.

But sometime during the day, I had a thought:

Why am I seeing Secret and Faith?  They should be locked up in the Cat Room.

(fail to hear the ominous music playing in the background)

Secret, the house cat, rarely goes outside.  Faith, the Barn Cat, loves to come inside, but because her bathroom habits aren't to be trusted, when I do give in she is relegated to a spare bedroom that hasn't been re-tiled yet - The Cat Room.  If she happens to stand in the litter box, and poop OUTSIDE the litter box, it isn't a tragedy. Most of her life is spent outside, but when it is cold and wet, she begs to come inside. And last night, I gave in.

So I asked myself that little question, but shrugged it off.  Perhaps "I" had opened the door and didn't remember it.  I am often a victim of GHS - Gray Hair Syndrome. 

But then . . . I passed the doorway and the door was closed.   Hmmmm . . .  a mystery.

So I opened the door.  The sliding window above the daybed was wide open. The screen had been pulled aside.  How odd . . . I walked across the room to investigate this further. The lock swung easily in place. Ahhh . . .   Faith has been known to use her paws like fingers, thus, it wasn't a stretch to see that Faith jiggled the lock, slid open the window, popped the screen and let herself (and Secret) outside.  Secret must have come back inside through the doggy door which is a task Faith has yet to master.  Mystery solved.   So I turned to leave the room.  I still had a full day of farm work ahead of me before I actually went to the office. And that's when I glanced down.  (and that's when the music from "Pyscho" started)

I screamed. I screamed like a little girl.  I screamed and danced in place.  I screamed and danced and pointed.  Dogs came running. They observed this odd ritual with great interest.  Why do I bother to scream?  I see horrid stuff all the time. (Of course, it's not usually IN MY HOUSE!) When the screeching finally subsided, and I could catch my breath, I ran for the camera, because that's what I do.   I take pictures of gross and disgusting things, and this certainly topped the chart.

                                      . . .

                                               . . .

                                                      . . .

                                                              . . .


It would appear that Faith brought me a little thank you gift. I'm sure if I look closely there is a little tag attached that reads,


"Dearest Mum, thanks for letting me stay in the house last night. Here's a token of my appreciation."

 

Posted by: forensicfarmgirl AT 01:26 pm   |  Permalink   |  12 Comments  |  Email
Comments:
We have had to relegate our gift bringer to a large cage at night. EVERYTIME he is not locked up I get a bushrat (large marsupial rat 3 times the size of yr specimen :) or a bird or worse still 4 sugar gliders and some ringtail possums in the last 12 months. Most recent one began to pong under my bed overnight (40C today) I also am very familiar with dead bodies of the animal kind. He is part Burmese black and white ex alley cat kitten who is long muscular and a real hunter. He does his best to nick off to get out of curfew and climbs trees like a monkey. Catching possums and gliders is a real feat.
Posted by Liz (Vic Aust.) on 01/29/2011 - 07:21 PM
Your little tiger looks like my Locki who is tiny compared to the other 3 cats. She also spends most of her time inside. Mum had one called Gimley and she was small.
Posted by Liz (Vic Aust) on 01/29/2011 - 07:24 PM
No, tell me you didn't screech at the sight of a dead mouse. Heck, it's insides are still......inside. Good girl, Faith---killing off vermin and giving mom a cardiovascular workout, all at the same time.
Posted by CeeCee on 01/29/2011 - 07:43 PM
The tabby is really undersized. The calico is a normal size but appears bigger because she's so fluffy right now. Unlike all the other cats I've had in this house, Secret, the tabby, never ever wanted to move to the barn, so I let her stay in the house. (Her litter box manners are impeccable!)
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 01/29/2011 - 07:44 PM
HEY! It's a RAT! (a young one, but still . . .) it was a RAT! In MY HOUSE! Few thinks can make me scream, but being surprised by a rat is one of them!
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 01/29/2011 - 07:46 PM
AND . . . the rat was outside! That cat BROUGHT that rat INTO my house! (shudder!)
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 01/29/2011 - 07:47 PM
Looks like a field mouse to me. I sometimes get them in the house; which is why I have house cats. I haven't figured out how they get in; I stuffed all the holes I found with steel wool - must have missed one. It's OK to scream while you do aerobics, helps the blood circulate. LOL
Posted by Lynne on 01/29/2011 - 11:28 PM
I agree with Lynne. Looks like a field mouse to me, BUT how do you know it was brought in from outside??. I had a mouse get in the house 6 yrs ago when I had carpenters working downstairs. I had a cat also, who just wanted to play with the darn things. One mouse equals many mices over time. Cat went on strike. Got new rescue cat, who would present a mouse about every month or so. Finally ate them all bless his little pointed tail. Just a thoguht. Love the newest baby sheeps.
Posted by Libby on 01/30/2011 - 01:40 AM
It was Faith, in the Untiled Room, with the knife... Screaming at dead treats with little curled claws makes perfect sense to me. My kitty used to leave them on (get ready, brace self) my pillow. Lots of screaming. I'm quite good at screaming.
Posted by Jane on 01/30/2011 - 11:11 AM
It was a RAT! It was a juvenile rat. That sucker was way too big to be a field mouse! His body alone was over 8 inches long! (shudder!) In fact, I'm ready to have a screaming, pointing, dancing fit all over again. Sista doesn't do rats!
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 01/31/2011 - 02:05 PM
"The envelope please . . . " Ohmygosh! Jane! You're right! It was Faith! In the Untiled Room! With a knife!
Posted by forensicfarmgirl on 01/31/2011 - 02:07 PM
It was a RAT! I had one of its siblings in my bathroom last week -- thanks to Brother!
Posted by g'ma on 01/31/2011 - 09:12 PM

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