The mouse...

Last night whilst lying in bed reading some awesome blogs on Scientician I caught a slight movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see what it was, and there, scuttling under my linen chest, was a mouse! aaaaiiiieeee! I couldn't move. I watched it as it stopped to get a lay of the surroundings. It then continued on into my closet, to settle, for a moment, in my handbag. I was, by this time, quite worried, as in it's little journey it seemed to be making its way slowly round the room towards my bed....and me!!!! eeeeeeek!

I thought I heard it scratching behind the bookcase that was just a few inches from my bed....

"It's getting closer!!! It's coming to get me!!!" , I rather over-dramatically thought. But then all of a sudden I saw it shot out FROM UNDER MY BED (I have no idea how it got there, it was so fast, so stealth....I never saw it coming!!!) and shot back under the bedroom door into the lounge from whence it came. I took this moment to pounce - grabbing some nearby clothes and jamming them under the door to make his re-appearance impossible. Unfortunately, all the excitement really made me want to pee, and 20 minutes later I had to move the clothes to get the door open, risking the return of monsieur mousie and all his accompanying germs and fleas.

When I got back from the scared-of-the-mouse-pee I had no way of knowing if the mouse was there or not, so I brought a little minder to keep me safe - our cat (an expert in the art of stalking) Bling. I sealed the door up again with my jeans (a door snake would have come in so handy right then) and settled Bling on top of the bed. I hopped in too (after first tearing all the bedding off to check for stowaways) and switched off the light - safe in the knowledge that if monsieur mousie moved an inch Bling would hear it and pounce...ah sleep.

A couple of hours later I felt the cat leap off the bed.

"Ahhh, you fought a brave, but ultimately stupid battle monsieur - may your passing be swift, adieu!" ....and I was instantly back asleep.

....A couple more hours later however and the battle appeared to still be going. I turned the light on to see what was happening. Bling had him in her mouth, she opened it and he dropped on the floor. I thought he was dead but then all of a sudden he made a mad dash for the door. Bling lazily swatted him with her paw and he went flying back under a bag of cds. He made another desperate attempt, only to be swatted again. I felt an awful pang of remorse rip through me. This poor little mouse, who probably only wanted to come in to get out of the cold...to warm his little paws on my rug and discarded socks. This mouse who I trapped, like a little monkey in a cage with a lion.....oh the guilt, THE GUILT!

I couldn't go through with the murder. I pulled the jeans out of the way and half opened the door. Monsieur Mouse departed, half mangled but still with enough life left in him to want to keep it! Stupidly the door was also open enough for the cat to get that paw in and wrench it open further. Last I saw was the mouse fleeing to the relative safety of the underneath of the bed. I was satisfied, "There are holes aplenty for the mouse to escape from I'm sure" I thought as I switched off the light, closed my door and went back to bed.

If you like happy endings you may want to just leave it there.

If however you've got to know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but then continue reading.

The following morning the boyfriend was saying he was woken early by the cat playing in HIS room with the poor STILL ALIVE mousie!!! She'd obviously found him again, and unable to come show off to me she'd opted to go upstairs to give her dad a present. He picked up the dishevelled, mostly-dead mouse and put him outside in the garden.

If your heart is starting to tear but you still hold out hope then stop reading now.

Bling wasn't happy with her game being ended. She bolted out the door hot on mousie's heels.

This is the last either of us saw of monsieur mouse.

I feel just awful about this. Have just watched Fievel singing on An American Tale, "Never Say Never" and I'd like to hold out hope that our little monsieur got away from Bling Bling. It is possible - she'd been up all night tormenting him, and her plate of food was just outside where mousie got dumped so she could have been sidetracked just long enough for him to get down into his little mousie burrow.

I shall never trap a mouse in the hope of its being eaten ever again.

Career Option No.1 - Dog Walker

For the last month I have been not working. For the 3 months prior to that I was working my arse off as a private housekeeper. 13 and 14 hour days rushed off my feet were the norm. I may go into more detail about this at a later date but right now I try not to dwell on the horror that was my summer as it tends to bring on nightmares.

Anyhoo. So during my month of bed rest, television and facebook therapy I had been dwelling on my next move. What was my next job to be? I couldn't go back into hospitality (my nerves are still too damaged to take huge crowds of demanding people, screaming kids, mess....) and that was where I was stuck, considering I lived on an island that made its money through tourism, with the only jobs being in cafes, restaurants, bars.....or real estate.

"Start your own business!" was the boyfriends suggestion. He makes it look so easy. He has started 3 on the island and all are doing well. "Fantastic idea!" I thought, "but....my own business doing.....what?" . I thought about it while dunking my gingernut into my cup of tea. I continued thinking about it through half a packet of gingernuts and 5 cups of tea. I got frustrated with my lack of ideas and decided to switch my brain off completely with a little facebooking. Half a day later and I realised I still had nothing. I was peckish and decided to be healthy and eat an orange. After the orange I felt so pleased with myself for avoiding temptation I rewarded myself with some salt and vinegar crisps and a glass of chocolate milk. The aftermath of guilt made me get out of the house and go round to my mums to walk the dogs.

She has 3, all Blue Heelers crossed with Corgi. If any of you have had experience with Blue Heelers then you will know they are "energetic" to say the least. If not exercised regularly they punish you by destroying your property - with mums dogs they all have their particular favourites; Yodi perfers Bra's and Undies, new or old he's not picky. Sumo is a bucket destroyer, he loves plastic buckets! Pupple also loves buckets but has a real penchant for shoes - and normally the shoes you wear/love the most. They all also suffer various forms of OCD.

Yodi HAS to walk around the car 2 times befor getting in it. He likes to jump in the back seat, then out the front drivers door and will do this over and over until you get in. Once you are in he will bark like a dog possessed, and usually doesn't let up until you are nearly at your destination - thus it is a requirement that you wear ear mufflers at all times when he is in the car.

Sumo HAS to have something in his mouth when you are about to take him for a walk otherwise he gets so excited he tries to hurry you along by nipping at your inner thigh. I used to get really pissed off about it but then I discovered sticks and would just thrust one into his mouth and he'd be happy as larry! Now he is "trained" and whenever we go out the door for a walk he gets all excited, looks in the garden and grabs the biggest stick he can find (he is currently taking all our firewood logs out of the pile) and then he's ready to go.

Pupple has a weird foot fetish. She loves human feet! First thing in the morning she loves to pounce on your feet and lick 'em. If you try to move she'll pounce again and lick, lick, lick once more. (It is utter torture when you've just woken and are desperate to get to the toilet.)

Anyhew - so into my 2nd hour of dog walking with the last dog I was feeling great! I felt sure I'd burnt off all the junk I'd eaten earlier in the day and was mulling over how much exercise I'd get if I did this every day, and how mum was so busy (she is writing a novel as part of her masters degree) and this was really helping her out when it dawned on me......"this could be a business!". I mean, I live on a small island with a heap of dogs (I know this for a fact as my nanas dog has contributed 3 litters, about 28 pups, to this growing dog population) and I'm sure that unlike me, most people are employed and are therefore out of the house most of the day, too busy to walk their pooches or too tired to do it when they get in. ALSO, there are all the little old ladies and men who have these dogs but have got to the stage where they are too old to be able to take the dogs for a walk. My mind was whirling!!! Where to start? Where to start? Advertising!!

So I stuck an advert in the local paper. It ran on thursday and I got 3 calls that day!!!

The first was from an old lady calling on behalf of her neighbour who has a dog that needed walking. She wanted to know where I lived. I told her and then she said, "ohhhh, my neighbour doesn't live near there" and I said, "It doesn't matter, I pick the dog up from her house and drop it off"....and she did that thing that all old ladies do so well, that "ohhhhh" which sounds more like a happy "ewwwwww!", and said she'd let her know and call me back.

The secound call was from another old lady wanting to know if I wanted her surplus of plastic bags for picking up the dog poop. I told her that was a great offer but as yet they weren't needed as I had no clients.

The third call was a lady WITH A DOG who WANTED A WALKER!!!! YAY!!!! The convo was all rather hurried as she was on the ferry to town to fly to australia for a week. Address, blah blah, Dogs name is Blake, blah blah.....hunterway cross.....blah blah.....hemophiliac.....HEMOPHILIAC!? "Oh yes, so if he cuts himself then you'll need to give him a tablet from on top of the fridge..." I couldn't remember if she then said I had to also take him to the vet or I was to take him to the vet if I couldn't find the tablets, or I was to take him to the vet if the tablets didn't work...

Anyhew it is day 2 of walking Blake. He is a darling!!! Quite young, very affectionate, lanky...when he greets me he tries to jump up and put his front paws on my chest. (The result of this being that I nearly fall backwards! ) His house is right next to a walking park which is perfect HOWEVER I had never really noticed until the first day of walking him that the park is FULL OF GORSE!!!! I was having mini heart palpitations everytime we had to walk through a little cluster of gorse, but it was unavoidable, its friggin everywhere!!! At the end of the walk he seemed happy-as but I still made a thorough paw inspection, ready to whip him to the vets at the merest sign of anything red....but he was fine. And was fine today also.

So yes! That is a rather rambling tale. Hopefully I'll get a few more dogs. My next move will be advertising in the vets and supermarket. I am feeling a little dejected that no-one else has phoned but as the boyfriend says, "it all takes time" and the business will build, "through word of mouth"....I hope so. At the moment what I am charging to walk Blake is barely covering the petrol it takes to drive out to where he lives!! haha.

Am I a nana?

Am I a nana when:

1 I feel a draught coming from a crack in the window and wish I had one of those handy door snakes ( you know those long snake-like things your grandparents put along the bottom of the door to stop draughts).

2 I feel like shouting at the boyfriend to turn down his heavy metal and maybe put on something different altogether....maybe silence would be nice.

3 I get an urge to knit.

4 I don't want to drink beers with boyfriend and his mates, and instead sit inside and watch "all about steve" and drink tea.

5 That urge to knit - it's just so durn tempting right now....that and sewing.....sewing to make curtains to cover my draughty windows.....and to make a DOOR SNAKE!!! Yippeee!

6 I limit the amount of soda the kids drink befor bed because I fear they'll end up wetting the bed.

7 I whinge about everything. The lightbulb in my room blew lastnight, and I forgot to replace it today, but now, rather than hunt for a spare and repair it I'm just going to whinge about the fact I am sitting in a pitch black room listening to .....electronica now....the boyfriend likes a variety of music......(and though he would never admit it, he knows all the words to that whitney song from the bodygaurd, "I will always love you".....he was singing it today...i [heart] him immensely for that.)

8 I like talcum powder.

9 I prefer comfy flats to high heels - actually, this means nothing, I have an 89 year old grandmother who only wears heels when going out anywhere. She wouldn't be caught dead in jandals, and I can't for the life of me walk in a heel without looking like I'm being blown backwards by some imaginary cyclone.

10 I like to discuss my bowel movements.