Cats Can Dance, Cats Can Sing

Please be advised. Certain parties that read this blog with alarming frequency have a terrible aversion to cats. That being said, don't whine about how I didn't warn you both with this little missive and the title. Yes, Glamazon, I do mean you, Ms. Whiney!!
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So, they've mowed the pasture next to my oh so rural home (yep, its the stix, keep up) When this happens, I always get a mouse or two. I mean mice, in that they're tiny, not rats, but field mice. Stupid little things. You'd think they'd have memos and all about my house being like the Bermuda Triangle for rodents, lizards and other small fluttery type things.

In the above picture, the owl represents my cat, Mr. Bean, Monsieur LeGuime, The Evil Feline Overlord. Are you getting the picture? He's badass. Case in point, I come home like I do every day. I go to the door, unlock it, chuck my keys into my huge purse (Bermuda Triangle for whatever the hell I'm looking for btw) so I don't lose the damn things. Well, lose em where I can't without a modicum of bitching, growling, snarling and dumping out embarrassing feminine products, cell phone, etc find them.

I go to open the door and as my hand gets a scant inch from the knob, it is yanked open from the inside. GACK! I freak, thinking zombies first, robbers second, a sure sign of a sick mind, yes, I know lets move on!!! However, it's only the cat. ONLY you say? ONLY the evil feline of lore and legend, inspiration for countless shenanigans on Loops of Legendary Forgotten Lore? Urm, yep, LOS, Meymey is bad, but Bean's badder.

He jerks the door open and I swear I heard the feline version of SEEE!!! LOOKIT! DAMMIT!LOOK YOU STUPID HUME! So, I look and *gulps* right in the middle of the floor, where my dainty *snorts* foot would have fallen, is a tiny, potential mouse zombie.
Ew. Gross. Ew. Gross +Infinity+1.

I step over it and shudder and squeal my way into the bathroom. I'm old, I've had a kid, I am NOT bending over to get that mouse til I've visited the loo, thanks ever so.

On my way back into the living room, barely avoiding the assassination attemps by said EFO (Evil Feline Overlord) who likes to wind his fat ass between my feet as I walk, I stop short to see the mouse is in the kitchen. *blinks* Oh hoooolllyy shit, it IS a damn zombie! It's moving when I ain't watchin it! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH! Bloody Rodent INVASION AACK ACK SOUND THE ALARMS!!!

I look closer at the dead mouse on the floor and notice, it aint as large as I remember. I wrinkle my nose and step over the fat feline to peer around into the living room. There are not one but two lil potiential zombies in my home. Two? Are they Dumb and Dumber of the rodent set? Did they set out on this path to certain doom? OMG! What if they are like Frodo and Sam from LOTR? My dang cat's either Sauraman or *swallows hard* Shelob, the big bitch queen of spiders(a small aside, yes, yall, this DOES mean I've been forced to watch those movies wayyy too many times) I look at the cat, he flops over onto his back. Theme music begins to play in my head. I'm sure he put it there, the little git.

It goes a lil something like this..

Cat bomb
Cat bomb
They call me cat bomb
Cat bomb
Cat bomb
They call me cat bomb
I'm the finest
I'm the felinest
cause, I'm the cat bomb.

*evil feline grin*

Yes, it is a Tom Jonesian tune, but you have to remember, the cats been exposed to my hubby's strange musical proclivities as well as my severe phobias about creatures in my house. I don't fear mice, just dead ones. I know that little bastard laughed at me while he did his wiggly dance on the floor. I heard him say

Meowhahahahaahhahahahhahahaha

*blinks* Well, ok, I guess he is MY cat too. *evil redneck grin*