Things go to Hell When I Travel on Business

August 04, 2004

Something always goes to hell in a handbasket when I have to go on a work trip.

When I heard Gatsby moving around in the kitchen, I got up and walked in there to give him some attention. But he wasn't there. Instead, there's scratching in the cabinet above the stove. I turned on the light and opened the door.

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Let me back up for a moment. This takes place on the evening before my flight out of town for work. Although he's getting better, Gatsby is having a little bit of a hard time adjusting to having two kittens in the house. To lift his feline spirits, Mrs. theskinnyonbenny and I have taken to treating him like a celebrity when he comes in the house. So, when I heard him in the kitchen, I started that way.

When I opened the door it was dark inside, I heard a scurring and cellophane rustle, and two pieces of bowtie pasta came flying down toward me. In the span of about a quarter of a second, I had screamed an obscenity, and slammed the door.

A note to the men readers: when you have to leave your wives home by themselves for a few days, it's not good to get the shit scared out of you in your own kitchen. This doesn't leave them with the sense of a safe, friendly, secure home that you've worked so hard to create over the years.

Anyway, I turned on the kitchen light and slowly opened the door again. There is a hole in the top of the cabinet, and from inside the whole a mouse peered back at me defiantly. It was a lot like that semi-circle mouse hole that you see all of the mice use in cartoons. I hadn't seen anything like that in real life before.

The mice are out in full force. Now that we've cleared up the lethal level of mold spores, a mouse has moved in there. And Gatsby just left us a dead mouse to play with in the back yard the other day. In fact, in that picture above, you can see it by his proud little head. Here's one more where he plays with it. Are you impressed with my ability to catch an action photo?

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This little mouse has had better days.