I am so proud. I'm just ecstatic. Dixie, our wonderful new cat, killed a mouse!!! That's right folks. Jack, Annabelle and I were on on way downstairs when I spotted a dead mouse at the bottom of the steps. Anna is riding on my back at this point, and Jack is walking down the steps by himself. I see the mouse and tell everyone to hold on because I have to get the mouse. (I did nudge it with my foot first just to make sure it wasn't playing dead.)
Now I should mention that I HATE mice. I know they are small and do no harm and blah, blah, blah, but I don't care. They make me shiver in disgust. Just the thought of a mouse in the house makes me want to move.
So I called Steve (who's at a class in Illinois this week) and proudly report on Dixie's killer instinct. The conversation went like this...
"Dixie got a mouse! So there! What did your cat ever do?"
"Really? She got a mouse?" Steve asks. "Good for her."
"Yeah! So there," I say.
"Did you put it in a plastic bag and put it out with the garbage?"
This makes me laugh.
"Are you kidding me? I flushed it!"
"Why did you flush it?" Steve asks.
"Hey! It was smaller than poop. Don't give me a hard time for flushing it! I was balancing Annabelle on my back during this whole time!"
Steve repeats something about how I shouldn't have flushed it, but whatever. Out of sight, out of mind. I feel so safe in my house now with my big bad cat! I'm still grossed out by the whole mouse thing, but at least I know I have a cat in shining armor to come to my rescue. Dixie is awesome.