There’s a Moose Loose Aboot this Hoose!

In an effort to cheer up Her Royal Highness Sayyida al Hurra, Queen of the Mediterranean, otherwise known as Si, or if I’m annoyed, Psycho, I bought her a yellow squeaky mouse.

I did my best to interest her in the mouse; I squeaked it, bounced it, rolled it along the floor, left it strategically placed so that she would encounter it when no-one was watching and likely to laugh at her, but all to no avail – she studiously ignored it.

She was altogether above such trivialities. She would favour it with a look so caustic that I’m surprised that it didn’t spontaneously combust.

After she had refused to acknowledge its presence for a couple of weeks I began to look for someone else who had a cat that might find it a suitable replacement for a real mouse!

The very next day I heard her bouncing off the doors. Checking to see what had caused all this frivolity I found her in the little hallway between the bedrooms, taking a running jump at the doors, cartwheeling back to earth, landing on the mouse and swatting it all over the place.

After a short while the noise stopped, so I went to investigate; she was in the hallway doing an impersonation of the Egyptian goddess Bast, the Cat Goddess, the one that sits regally in profile on all the best Egyptian tombs.

The mouse was nowhere to be seen, so assuming that she had either eaten it or lost it underneath a piece of furniture I looked, and sure enough it was underneath a chair.

I thought it was unlikely that she’s eaten it – it’s about the size of a golf ball, which would be quite a swallow for a cat.

She was playing with it yesterday, leaping at the doors and bouncing back onto her prey like some domesticated leopard when silence broke out. I went to investigate, but I couldn’t find the mouse anywhere. I looked underneath all the furniture, even under the cushions on the sofa. I looked under the beds, behind the linen basket; I extended my search to the kitchen where there is ample opportunity for mice to hide, but no yellow rodent could I find.

She can’t have eaten it, can she?

No, I think the more likely scenario is that it is in the same place as my kitchen scissors, which disappeared before Christmas, and which still haven’t come back!

*If you can’t remember, or don’t know, this is the sort of tune that stays with you for hours. I remember it as played by Waccy Maccy and the Lairds of Rock. And I defy you to listen to it without tapping your feet and smiling!