MICE! The Catastrophe Continues

While trying to cope with the flea apocalypse, a new horror raised its furry, rabid, blood-sucking, saber-toothed head within the confines of our cozy, loving, disaster-beset home.

"What's going on with them?" said Scruffles.

I was trying to work on this stupid cat blog and was having trouble thinking of a word. "What?"

"The cats are watching the stove like there's something under it."

They had indeed been looking at something under the stove when I saw them earlier. Being a masterfully superior human being with a surpassing intelligence, I paid no attention to what the cats were doing. Who cared? They were cats, and I had a cat blog that demanded every neuron of my attention so I could finish the all-important post about fleas.

"Come here, Bear."

I sighed and went to look at the cats. After some discussion, I chased the cats away and pulled out the drawer at the bottom over the stove. Nothing was under there except a mechanical pencil and two paper wads (thanks, Dip).

"I was afraid there would be poop under there," said Scruffles. "Look under the sink."

I knew what she meant. She meant mouse poop. There was none under the stove. Whew.

Then I opened the cabinets under the sink.

Mouse poop.

Mouse poop EVERYWHERE.

To be continued...