In our last episode, I had discovered a large space above the ceiling of my house. After waiting until the two leggers had gone to bed, Ivan and I began to explore this vast region.
And now I continue the narrative where I left off, with Ivan and I having just crossed the Plain of The Wild Dust Bunnies:
As we continued our trek, I was struck by stark bareness of this room. It is my belief that the female two legger has never stepped foot in this area. My reasoning is sound. There is not a single space in my house that the female has not painted, repainted and painted again at least once every two years. Yet the walls here were raw, unfinished wood. Boards stretched in uniformity from wall to wall to ceiling, forming a lattice-like structure similar to an upside down bridge thingy. The whispy leavings of eight leggers shone like gossamer threads in the small amount of starlight showing through vents set into the walls at either end of the room.
Just ahead, the room turned at a sharp angle to the left. This led to the space directly above the bedroom of the two leggers. I could just make out the sound of the male still snoring. His snoring was now accompanied by that of the female. "Snoooooooovvski" (she often snores in Russian) came the whisper of her gentle snooze.
At the bend of the room, we came upon a most incredible sight: Scattered across the floor lay the semi-mummified remains of a large group of deceased mousie thingies. Yes, we had discovered the location of the mythical "Lost Mousie Thingy Graveyard". Scientists have speculated for days that since they never find the bodies of mice that have died of natural causes, there must be somewhere that they go to die when it is "their time". I have always thought this ridiculous because in my opinion, any mouse that is killed by a cat, has died of "natural causes". Be that as it may, I have now given creditability to their theory.
Around us they lay in various states of decay, from stinky fresh to dried bone ancient. Finally finding a mousie thingy that he was capable of catching, Ivan jumped among the bones and using two of the skulls as puppets, began an impromptu puppet show. Now, I admit that I enjoy a puppet show as much as the next cat, but Ivan's rendition of Abbot and Costello's "Who's On First?" routine had me rolling with the giggles.
I was in such a fit of laughter, that I failed to realize that the snoring had stopped and Tiger Lily was whining out the alarm.
Suddenly, the murky darkness was stabbed by the ray of a flashlight shining across the room and the silhouette of the male two legger in the hatchway. Thinking fast, I jumped upon the freshest of the rodent carcasses and with a great hissing and show of strength, I wrestled it until it lay lifeless in my mouth. I then trotted up and laid the body in front of him. He was so thrilled that he took me into his arms and whisked me off to the kitchen where he gave the conquering hero a large portion of tuna.
As the two legger turned to go back to bed, he was knocked off of his feet by Ivan sliding down the hallway.
Apparently, mouse skulls make great skates.......
And now I continue the narrative where I left off, with Ivan and I having just crossed the Plain of The Wild Dust Bunnies:
As we continued our trek, I was struck by stark bareness of this room. It is my belief that the female two legger has never stepped foot in this area. My reasoning is sound. There is not a single space in my house that the female has not painted, repainted and painted again at least once every two years. Yet the walls here were raw, unfinished wood. Boards stretched in uniformity from wall to wall to ceiling, forming a lattice-like structure similar to an upside down bridge thingy. The whispy leavings of eight leggers shone like gossamer threads in the small amount of starlight showing through vents set into the walls at either end of the room.
Just ahead, the room turned at a sharp angle to the left. This led to the space directly above the bedroom of the two leggers. I could just make out the sound of the male still snoring. His snoring was now accompanied by that of the female. "Snoooooooovvski" (she often snores in Russian) came the whisper of her gentle snooze.
At the bend of the room, we came upon a most incredible sight: Scattered across the floor lay the semi-mummified remains of a large group of deceased mousie thingies. Yes, we had discovered the location of the mythical "Lost Mousie Thingy Graveyard". Scientists have speculated for days that since they never find the bodies of mice that have died of natural causes, there must be somewhere that they go to die when it is "their time". I have always thought this ridiculous because in my opinion, any mouse that is killed by a cat, has died of "natural causes". Be that as it may, I have now given creditability to their theory.
Around us they lay in various states of decay, from stinky fresh to dried bone ancient. Finally finding a mousie thingy that he was capable of catching, Ivan jumped among the bones and using two of the skulls as puppets, began an impromptu puppet show. Now, I admit that I enjoy a puppet show as much as the next cat, but Ivan's rendition of Abbot and Costello's "Who's On First?" routine had me rolling with the giggles.
I was in such a fit of laughter, that I failed to realize that the snoring had stopped and Tiger Lily was whining out the alarm.
Suddenly, the murky darkness was stabbed by the ray of a flashlight shining across the room and the silhouette of the male two legger in the hatchway. Thinking fast, I jumped upon the freshest of the rodent carcasses and with a great hissing and show of strength, I wrestled it until it lay lifeless in my mouth. I then trotted up and laid the body in front of him. He was so thrilled that he took me into his arms and whisked me off to the kitchen where he gave the conquering hero a large portion of tuna.
As the two legger turned to go back to bed, he was knocked off of his feet by Ivan sliding down the hallway.
Apparently, mouse skulls make great skates.......
What a wonderful journey! You are quite a good writer, Cujo...I actually felt myself beside you in the "Lost Mousie Thingy Graveyard"! Excellent story Sir!!! *Giggle*
ReplyDeleteExcellent! Stinky mouse carcasses! And such quick thinking on your part to get extra tuna! me bows to your Prowess!
ReplyDeleteKisses
Nellie
Lovin' this adventure. However, I'm glad its you not me finding the "stinky mouse carcasses" - ha, ha.
ReplyDelete