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carnage (notes)

May 13, 2010

Today’s poem (below this post; leave me a note if you need the password) was inspired by my actual morning.

Our youngest male cat is Fred Weasley, the one we call Crazy Legs because he never should have been able to walk (missing a hip socket; neither rear knee cap attached). He is a hunter, for sure, but these are the things he stalks: plastic rings from our milk bottles, rubber bands, darts, origami projects and stuffed animals — any debris the children leave on the floor (he even pulls things out of the trash). I never know what he’s going to have in his mouth. He always fights me before I overpower him and make him give it up.

This morning I realized he had a real mouse. Even though I could tell it was dead, I couldn’t convince myself to get it from him. I have an extreme fear of mice, dead or alive. So I woke my husband up. Score one for the man of the house.

I got a little something of a poem out of it more because I was determined to write something today than because this needed to be written.

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Tomorrow is Big Tent Poetry’s second “Come one, come all” gathering based on a great prompt by Deb. I will be in the city all day and will not be able to post or read until Saturday — thank goodness the fun lasts all weekend!

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4 Comments
  1. May 13, 2010 11:55 pm

    I didn’t know about the mouse-fear thing.

    I do think I love your cat, though. 🙂

    Travel well!

    • May 15, 2010 11:25 am

      he is very lovable but extremely maddening in his resourcefulness. he will dig through boxes and shelves and closets to find something to play with, scattering their contents throughout the house.

  2. May 14, 2010 11:11 pm

    Did you think of letting the cat keep the mouse? Quite likely he would have eaten it, and that would be that 🙂

    • May 15, 2010 11:26 am

      oh, gosh. no, i didn’t think of it. couldn’t bear the mouse guts dragged over the house touching our stuff and being seen by me and the kids. yuck. yuck. yuck.

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