Artemis on Duty

Yesterday, while I was reading in bed, my precious kitten went into full Hemingway mode. OK, not so much. My Princess was defending her home against nasty-ass marauding invaders (AKA cute little mousies who’re only trying to get outta the cold and find a crumb of food), while Hemingway was being a slavering, I’m-a-conquering-HE-man asshole.

Why anyone would hunt and kill innocent creatures is utterly beyond me. OK, I get that some folks do it in order to feed themselves and fam BUT, here in 21st century America, that’s extraordinarily rare. The bloodthirsty cretins who do it for sport? They’re dangerously mentally unwell and should NOT be allowed to possess firearms. For that matter, they should be kitted out in white canvas blazers and given loads of time to discuss their cold blooded inclinations with a few pro shrinky-dinks. Also, can’t these barbarous dipshits get their murderous rocks off by, instead, playing Mortal Kombat?

But I’m off topic. (Shocking I know) Our darling angel was mightily focused.  She managed to  flush Wayne out of his bathroom cabinet hidey hole. Yes, I named the mouse – I couldn’t help myself. Also, he looks a little thin. I want to feed him a good, solid meal. Yes, Coco and I have diametrically opposed hopes and dreams vis-à-vis rodents.

Our ultimately doomed friend scurried from salle de bains into the bedroom. So many places to hide here! Behind stacked paintings! In the depths of the closet! Under a dresser! Coco sat, patiently waiting for Wayne to make his move.

Eventually, my sweet Artemis wearied of her focused labors and came to bed to assist me in my reading. She’s a killer but a très thoughtful one. Haven't found any wee corpses yet this morning but, I know, it's only a matter of time.