This is in response to “Just one thing: Crowd control” (Magazine, Jan. 14), by Tribune columnist Ellen Warren. My husband, who is a cat person by marriage–not choice–particularly liked the reference to the “Meow Mix stupor” (“The house cat–whose very DNA is supposed to tell it to rid the house of vermin–has been coddled into a Meow Mix stupor that renders it utterly useless for mouse patrol”). It was especially timely since the day before I read the column I had stopped at Menards to purchase sticky traps. I’d seen a varmint in the laundry room.
My husband put the mousy motels out. The next morning, I was awakened at 2 a.m. by a growling cat.
Assuming it was Chessie, who is rather possessive of his toys, I yelled at him to stop. The growling continued.
I turned on the light and discovered it was my other cat, Bubba, and he had brought me a live present.
In the ensuing pandemonium, the mouse escaped.
My husband (who wasn’t particularly jovial having been awakened by my shrieks) told me to go back to bed.
I did, with great trepidation.
An hour and lots of noise later, the mouse was paws up in the living room.
Bubba earned a gold star.
Chessie earned an honorable mention for helping to guard the corpse.
I guess he was in a Meow Mix stupor.
