Wednesday, 28 November 2007

In The Wee Small Hours.

This is Polly. She looks cute and she is. However, she's a devil when it comes to catching mice. Since getting Henry, we lock the cats in at night. She of course, comes in when she likes and usually brings with her a mouse of some description. Since they can't be locked in downstairs anymore they are allowed upstairs. In our bedroom. And the mice come with her. Last night I was up at 3am chasing a sodding field mouse around the bedroom, under the bed and behind the curtains. Bloody cat just sits there and watches. What sort of cat is that, I ask you. Then I tip toe downstairs so as not to wake the dog to chuck the bugger out. I have got so fed up of this that I now chuck it out of the window. I know that sounds cruel, but believe me, when you're woken up in the middle of the night to the sounds of little scurrying feet, and cat in attack mode noises, it's the best I can do.
We've had pigeons in the kitchen pre-dog, lets hope we don't have one of those in the bedroom.