6am my alarm went off! It was office day Thursday, yipeee, not. I did my usual morning routine, got half dressed and came down to feed the animals.
I give the dog her morning butt wiggle love and when she finally ran out of steam I opened the door for her to go for a wee. We have 3 cats but 2 of them are house cats. We had an incident with our beautiful boy Teddy, he was hit by a car outside our gate and when we got the new guys I refused to let them out.
Over the years we occasionally let Barney in the garden because he weighs about 10 stone and cant jump, so know he wont hop over the fence any time soon, and he never really shows much interest in going out when its dark or cold anyway, he is more a fair weather wanderer but not this morning, today the chonk made a run for it! Not just to step outside and check it out but his rump disappeared into the dark and cold garden, right to the corner of the drive way.
Why on earth did he decide that this was a good time to bolt!?!
He is a house mouse! Not made for outdoor adventures . When he has had the privilege he looks more like pooh bear plodding around than a wild thing.
I went to grab some treats to try and entice him back in, he loves food, but that didn’t work! Whaaaat!
So I grabbed my husbands garden trainers – you know that old pair that got a mark on them and now belong to everyone in the house for garden duties like putting the bins out, grabbing something from the garage, cat rescue missions etc – and go out and start to whisper shout, still only in my pants may I add and it was freezing!
Shaking his cat treats, calling him and then threatening to leave him out in the wild forever if he didn’t return, still wasn’t working so I came back in and shut the door. Within seconds he was panic yowling as he knows full well that it was a terrible decision and he has zero chance of surviving out there by himself. Silly bear!
When he came in he looked mildly pleased with his poor attempt of escape, I however was not entertained. Apparently neither was my husband as he appeared at the kitchen door wondering what the hell was going on. Appears my whisper shout wasn’t actually that quiet and the dogs howling because she thought I was running away in underwear and old oversized trainers, woke him up. I explained what happened and that I was livid with the fluffy lump for his poor escape plan re-enactment and funnily enough my husband just looked at me as he usually does when I drop something or break another glass, or walk into the wall, or trip on a flat bit of floor and took it in his stride and came and took over the food duties so I could attempt to dry my lions mane, you know that awkward time where your hair starts to dry in that ridiculous frizzy, no heat bush state. God help me.
Also isn’t it weird that you just have this four legged lump floating around your home. Doesn’t understand a word you say, doesn’t speak your language, just gives you the eyes, sometimes a playful swipe, sometimes a yawn like he is sizing you up for his next meal, face like thunder but also could get away with being a moody looking plushy. These animals have such a huge impact on your life. I genuinely panicked when he ran out and had that “what the fuck” moment and punch in the gut feeling. We must pick him up, fuss him, kiss his powder puff cheeks, ask him if he is ok hundreds of times a day and yet the dip shit still wanted to bolt into the unknown. Calm down Elsa, being a house Hippo is much safer.
Ahhh office day Thursday, what a great morning. It’s going to be a good day… xoxo
