The Icky Mouse Club
I stomped into the house, flicked on the lights and watched them scatter while my pal nonchalantly snapped a pic of the tiny footprints left in the bowl of bacon fat that I’d stupidly left out on the counter. To be candid, the dog snagged a few mice and I admired her tenacity, skills and bravura, while apologizing to the critters and tossing them back into the field, where they belong. I prepared a few “snacks” for my new roommates and turned in, mildly disturbed by the scratching and squeaking that filled the night air. Making a mental note to check the contents of future incoming boxes, I informed the Icky Mouse Club that I’d do my best to spare their lives in the future. Why? Because we like you. “Live and let live” I promised, but please, not in the house.