We had an early lunch and lingered over coffee, talking idly about Charles' singing group which had visited the local Care Centre in the morning. We reminisced a little, and then fell to discussing the river Thames, and the wonderfully researched book that Peter Akroyd has written about the Sacred River. I was particularly interested in the wealth of Neolithic and Bronze Age artifacts which have been found, concentrated in the short stretch between Twickenham and Teddington. We were discussing the complex geology of the Thames and reading aloud little bits about the relevance to ancient earth ages when suddenly there were strange noises coming from the nether parts of the house.
I went to investigate.
The cat was in the laundry room, swishing her tail and with a wildly concentrated look in her eyes. A mouse, - somewhere behind the hot water heater there was a mouse!
Charles came to investigate.
I left the two mighty hunters behind closed doors, discussing the capture of the creature.
Through the door the discussion grew a little frantic, - I could hear the cane (Charles' cane, not the cat's) pushing things aside, banging on the floor.
Ah, things have quietened down somewhat, - Charles is speaking to Miss Callie with gentle approval - "Good Cat, Good Cat" I hear.
Suddenly, all approval gone, the feline intelligence is being questioned. Loudly. Miss Callie has let the mouse escape....well, of course, - isn't that the name of the game?
She catches it again, - Charles tries to guide Callie and the mouse through the open door, but in vain. The mouse is free! And in behind the washer, where nothing and noone can reach her/him....
I lie down on the couch and feign sleep, - Charles and Callie emerge from the laundry room. Callie comes and lies on my chest, telling me what went on and commenting on the status quo.
It is clear that the answer lies in a mousetrap, generously baited. Charles moves the washer and dryer closer together so that there is room to slide in the cheesy morsel. We close the door, and settle for a little nap, complacently confident that this will do the trick.
We are old hands at this game....
Tonight Miss Callie haunts the laundry room, frightfully bucked at the thoughts of another exciting chase. Nobody has the heart to tell her the cheese was the poor little creatures downfall.....