The Noisiest Mouse

The Noisiest Mouse

During the nights I had watched the bigger ones bring in boxes wrapped with funny string and place them under my tree, but I never cared about what was inside. Nothing smelled like food so it must not have been anything good for me to find anyway. Instead I just laid there, my beautiful paws curled up under my busty bosom, and made sure to warn them to not cover my spot. They never did, but after the noisiest mouse arrived the might as well had.

One motionless night I noticed a small puffy creature sitting atop one of the bigger boxes. The box smelled like the bigger female, who I learned is not one to be double crossed, so I ignored it and went back to scouting out for excitement from the comfort of my tree. All went well (aside from the lack of fun) until the box I had come to accept was out of my reach began make a low rumbling sound.

I glanced over at it casually, but by them it had stopped. I simply dismissed it as maybe my own misconception and decided it was probably my own belly that grown too impatient for the morning. No big deal. It was nothing a little roll to the left couldn't fix. And so I rolled to my side stretched out only to lightly kick the once presumed to be rumbling box. Before I knew it the little puffy creature leaped from top of the box and fell directly onto my delicate foot.

The nerve! Instantly I sat up and turned my icy gaze to the creature. I'd teach it a lesson. Indeed I would.

I swatted at it, turning it around into a pitiful circle. It was frozen in fear as I toyed and humiliated it for surprising me. One good swat sent it slamming against it's old shelter. Another into a flimsy look alike. A third sent it outside of the boundaries of my beloved tree. What a pest. Why couldn't it just stay where it's so comfortable?

I strutted toward it so casually I think it blew it's little mind for it started to shiver. It started to rumble. It started to squeal in an irritatingly high pitch, yet patterened tone. Like it was calling for something. Trouble, trouble, trouble! The Missess would dunk me in a bucket of water if I didn't shush it. How sad it was that now I had to silence this stupid mouse before I could have all the fun I could. It had to be a mouse. It was stupid like one.

With my blessed grace I pounced onto the mouse and smothered it with my lucuious fur, but it just wouldn't shoosh. I turned over and gripped it between my paws whlie I sank my fangs into. Much to my surprise (and pain) I found that it was a tough one. Meaning it was well fed. How lucky I was to find a plump one, indeed! I kicked and clawed at it, trying to so very hard to knock it into death, but it kept going. Such a noisy pest. My hide was at stake!

Lights. Steps. Groans. Oh the missess was a awake and only seconds away. I'd be the criminal for waking up this noisy little mouse. I sat there, still once again trying to smother it with myself as she came to the foot of the stairs. The misses, in all of her sleepy glory opened her powerful jaw into a yawn and them slammed it shut.

"Missy, what is that racket."

If I finished off this noisy mouse in front of her she surely reward me with a midnight snack. Indeed she would! Without answering her (as if I ever would) I snatched up the mouse and dashed off to the kitchen with lightening speed.

"Missy!"

I stood over the sink where water had been gathered there by the little misses when the Misses had ordered to be done so. I didn't understand why, but I think it had much to do with the food smothered dishes I saw in it. Maybe they were making a big stew by getting the old food of the food dishes and then putting it together? Oh, no time to worry. I stood there with the noisy mouse in mouth, hanging over the water. The Misses had to be present or else she'd think the mouse did it itself!

Against the roof of my mouth it raddled. Squirmed. Squealed. And above all: irritated me. But not for too much longer for the Misses came around the corner, rubbing her wise eyes as she approached me.

"Missy, give me that now," she said so simply I was sure she was saying it because she figured I could not handle the final deed needed to be done.

If I could not swim, a mouse could not swim, and into the water it needed to go. As so it went. The noisiest mouse never made anymore noise, but I never did get that midnight snack. Before Misses chased me into the basement for stealing her prey she yelled something about, "That was a $300 phone!" Whatever $300 and a phone is, I don't know, but I'll be sure to look for that if I ever find another noisy mouse under my tree.