Mice, Mitts & Muffin: A Three-Tale Mouse-capade

Union Beach, NJ: The Bite That Bit Back

Back in Union Beach, NJ, our cats were outdoor adventurers - furry little assassins who proudly left “gifts” in the yard. If you’ve ever had cats, you know these gifts aren’t wrapped in bows - they’re usually dead mice or birds, lovingly mauled and ceremoniously deposited like trophies.

One day, Roger spotted a field mouse left by one of our feline benefactors. He grabbed a plastic bag to scoop and toss it - standard procedure. Except… surprise! The mouse was not dead. It was very much alive and apparently not thrilled about being bagged. It bit Roger through the plastic!

Cue my frantic Googling: “Do field mice carry rabies?” “Is this a hospital thing or a Band-Aid thing?” The internet said they’re generally harmless, but if you’re squeamish, go see a doctor. Roger was squeamish. Off to urgent care we went, where they disinfected the bite, gave him a tetanus shot, and sent us home with a story that still makes me laugh.

Pennsylvania: The Great Oven Mitt Mouse Chase

Fast forward to Pennsylvania, where we now live in a wooded area - translation: winter mice seeking warmth. Normally, our cats Buddy and Momma handled the occasional intruder with feline efficiency. But one winter, it was like Mouse-palooza in our walls. Roger set humane traps and caught four in 24 hours. Clearly, we had a rodent rave happening somewhere inside.

That night, while we were watching TV, I saw Buddy chasing something. Another mouse! Roger and I leapt into action. Buddy was doing the classic cat thing - catch, release, repeat -like he was auditioning for Mouse Gladiator. Roger, having learned his lesson, sprinted to the kitchen and returned wearing oven mitts. Yes, oven mitts. Our plan: when Buddy released the mouse, Roger would scoop it up, and I’d open the door for the grand outdoor eviction.

Mid-chase, I burst out laughing. Roger looked at me, confused. “Look at us!” I said, “You in oven mitts, me fluttering about, the cat doing laps - we’re like a live-action cartoon!” Roger started laughing too, and Buddy kept chasing like it was his personal Olympics.

Eventually, the mouse ducked under the China cabinet. Roger baited a trap with peanut butter, and Buddy crouched like a furry sniper. Minutes later - trap closed! Roger released the mouse onto the deck like a tiny parolee. The next day, the exterminator came. No mice since. Three years mouse-free. Victory.

Bonus Tale: The Fire Escape Project

The previous mouse-capade jogged a memory from my childhood. My brother and I were still living at home, and our cat Muffin caught a mouse. It was dead, intact, and apparently perfect for my brother’s latest science experiment: he wanted its skeleton!

So, he placed the mouse on the fire escape to decompose. Problem solved, right? Wrong. For weeks, my mom couldn’t figure out why the house smelled like botanical death every time she opened the living room windows. She blamed the neighbor’s plants.

Eventually, she discovered the truth: the stench was coming from my brother’s DIY skeleton project. Her reaction? Horror. His? “Oh yeah… I forgot I did that.” Classic.

Forks & Fiascos™ Meter: 9.5/10

Chaos Quotient: Oven mitts, airborne mice, and decomposing science experiments

Laugh Factor: High. Like, “I snorted my coffee” high.

Moral of the Story: Always check if the mouse is alive. And maybe don’t rot one on a fire escape.