About a Mouse
This is about a mouse. At least, I think it is. The other night, as I was setting up the coffeemaker for the morning, I heard something scratching around in the kitchen cupboards. I opened some doors and peeked warily inside, but saw nothing. Nevertheless, I baited and set a mousetrap and left it in one of the lower cupboards. The next morning, the trap was still set. I assumed the intruder had found its way out the same way it came in, and I wrote it off. So it was, when I opened one of the cabinets that night, I was not expecting to literally come face to face with a field mouse. Our eyes met briefly before he dove for cover and I took an involuntary step back. A brief chase ensued, where he easily dodged from shelf to shelf among the clutter, while I vainly tried to slap a plastic container over him. His bright eyes would watch me intently as I maneuvered for position, and then he would duck away as soon as I committed to a move. He finally tired of our cat and mouse game -