This morning started like most Mondays.
I woke up after pressing snooze a billion times. I turned on MTV to wake me with the soothing sounds of Eminem. I opened my Mac to see Landon Donovan stare out at me seductively from my desktop. I grabbed a towel to head to the shower to wash 2 days worth of Halloween level hairspray from my dome.
I turn the water on to warm and put pre-brush mouthwash in. I pull back the curtain to make sure the entire bottle of Drano I poured down the drain on Friday had worked and the water wasn't making a shower lagoon. That's when I notice some black specks at the end of the tub. I am about 5 minutes out of sleep at this point so I'm trying to process what they are (lint? chocolate sprinkles? did I sleep eat a cupcake in here?) when I see something twitch out of the corner of my right eye. That something was a small tail and the back wheels of a mouse trying desperately to escape under the clear plastic curtain from the hot water raining down on his ass and back! I let out a closed-mouth "Ah!!" and my eyes nearly leap out of their sockets.
As I whirl around for the door I realize I am naked and have a mouth full of Crest foam. I turn back toward the tub. I turn back toward the door. I spit my mouthwash into the sink. I turn back toward the door. I am clearly panicking. My first thought is "I need Travis! But he's going to want to kill the mouse!". I contemplate trying to save my little guest myself, but I am already saying "Oh no, Oh God, Oh no." with every move I make so there is NO way I'm stifling a shriek if the mouse resists at all in my rescue attempt. I turn for the door. I realize again I am naked and Travis has seen enough so I reach back for a towel. I yell towards the upstairs. "HELP ME!!!". This wasn't the smartest as his first thought was -INTRUDER-. I quickly clarify that is not the case, he says his hands are full of hair gel, but he's coming. My next words "PLEASE DON'T KILL IT!!!". I am borderline hysterical. (In case you have not been reading previous blogs, I have an irrational amount of love and compassion for small woodland creatures. Not deer though, they're all clearly suicidal and I'm sick of my vehicle being their death vessel.)
Travis descends the stairs ready to take action. His first words: "Get the camera". I refuse as my tub is too dirty for photo documentation. He attempts to calm me while searching the kitchen for objects that insure swift and safe mouse transport from tub to back yard. I continue to lose my mind while I hop up and down wrapped in a blue beach towel. All I can picture is Travis getting frustrated with an uncooperative mouse and deciding he needs to die via giant hand squeeze so I am just pleading for it's safety. He again attempts to calm me down and assure me he's not going to harm the rodent. He heads to the bathroom with his trap of choice: A folded Smirnoff Ice box and a Solo cup. (Somewhere in the back of my head a voice says "man, we drink a lot here" but I am too focused/insane to make a joke at this point.) I follow him to see this extraction, but fearing either for my safety or my sanity, he orders me out of the bathroom and to close the door. I am fearful this means certain death for the mouse, but I choose to trust and I exit. The entire time, I continue to hop up and down just wailing things like "Did you get him? Is he ok! He's wet, be careful! DON'T HURT HIM!".
After about 60 seconds, Travis says "Ok, got him, open the door" and I see his face of triumph as he walks out of the bathroom with the Solo cup clamped securely down on the Smirnoff box platform. I want him to show me the the little guy, but I take his word that he is alive and well under there and "quite jumpy". The last thing I need is the tiny animal I worked to save lunging out from under a beer cup at my worried face. I rush to the sliding door to let Travis out onto the deck. I think he's just going to set him free right there, but he just leaps out across the yard in 33 degree temps and morning darkness wearing nothing but basketball shorts. All I can really see is his arms raise against the light from a building behind our house and I hear him giggle. As he runs back towards me I ask him what he did. "I tossed him over the fence, I'm sure he's fine". I yell "YOU THREW HIM?!" but deep down I know it's ok because I have seen mice fall from barn rafters 20 feet up a billion times and just scurry away so I know the 5 foot drop was no big.
Travis returns to the house a hero. Not til just then did I even think about the fact that he just did all that for me with a painful broken clavicle. : ( He also says "I was naked too! With 2 hands full of hair gel. And my first though was 'If it's an intruder, there's about to be a naked fight!'". His hero status elevates significantly.
I have thought about the mouse a lot today. I hope he's ok. One of the first movies I ever watched was The Secret of NIMH. If you have seen it, you can imagine where my mouse affection comes from. If you don't feel something for Mrs. Brisby, get out of America, please. You're a soulless human being. The last thing I said to Travis was "What if his family is in here? What if he has a wife here or something?". Travis' thoughtful and calm reply with a big smile; "Well... then they are now starting a loving, long distance relationship."
Take care, little mouse.
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