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Rabbit Hole

I woke up this morning to the wonderfully squishy feeling of stepping in something.

There's a minute when this happens where you stare straight ahead, eyes fixed on the middle distance, and know that in a second, you're going to have to look down. Until you look down, it could be anything. Cat puke, cat poo, disembowled small mammal--the options are many. It's like Schrodinger's Cat Leavings. Until you actually, with infinite dread, lift your foot and turn on the light and gaze upon whatever is wedged between your toes, it could be anything. Quantum theory* would probably indicate that until you do so, it's actually EVERYTHING, as God plays something much more disgusting than dice with the universe, and until the act of observation collapses reality back into a single state, you're actually standing in a disturbing organic gumbo which might include everything from bits of platypus to Nessie.

I finally looked down, and it was the back half of a moose.

This was almost a relief. We've had moose in the walls for days, and you would not believe the amounts of crap a bull moose can leave in the silverware drawer at night. Normally they stay outside, of course, but it's been cold enough lately that they're coming in for anything they can find, and if you accidentally leave a cookie on the counter, or a 50lb bag of oats on coffee table, you'll get up in the morning to find nibble marks and occasionally hoofprints around it. And sometimes at night you can hear them in the walls. The clip-clop of little moosey hooves is bad enough, but you get a couple of 'em bugling, and you might as well go stay at a motel.

We tried traps. But the cat is too stupid for standard moosetraps--I'm afraid she'd get caught--and the glue traps were just tragic. There's nothing like pulling out the fridge and seeing a dejected ton of moose huddled in the corner, looking at you with enormous brown eyes, each hoof glued solidly down to the floor. You peel the poor thing off and everybody cries and...well, it's too hard on the emotional state. Which leaves the live traps, and now, evidentally, the cat.

"Good cat!" I told her, tipping the moose butt into the trash. "What a good little hunter you are!"

The cat, presumably still digesting the front half of the moose, laid on her back and made a noise vaugely like "Mehhhhrrf...."

She's a good cat. Not a smart cat, but it's not every nine pound Siamese that can take down an adult moose, when you think about it.

*Which I don't understand, which is why I'm mangling it. I'm an artist, Jim, not a quantum theoretician.

(For those wondering what friggin' planet I'm on, an explanation of the Rabbit Hole thing is at http://www.livejournal.com/users/crisper/26562.html )

So I got to the asterisk and jumped down to the bottom immediately thinking that you we're telling people you were on a different plant for Quantum Physics reasons and, like perky, thought "Oh how cute; she calls mice "moose"".

I had completely forgotten about Rabbit Hole Day and am now a little sad that I didn't get a chance to concoct a story of my own. Your entry was absolutely delightfully happy-squeak-worthy, Ursula. Thank you. ^^

As I mentioned to a friend, you can backdate entries. Which might be appropriate, having these strange journal entries which didn't appear on your friends list, but somehow they're there when people look later...

Hmm... That's a pretty good idea actaully. =D

Hee. That's good, Ursula, though like several other people said, I thought it was one of your normal entries and you were just calling the plural of mouse "moose".

My Lit teacher (who is Scottish) used to tell a story about her father, how he'd exclaim, "There's a moose loose in the hoose!"

A fun read! Happy Rabbit Hole Day!

and if you accidentally leave a cookie on the counter

No, no, no. Not a cookie. A muffin. (Reference is to the lovely childrens' book If You Give A Moose A Muffin, by the same author as If You Take A Mouse To The Movies, which -- as Bob is my witless -- was on my desk earlier today. I don't have to explore rabbit holes to have weirdness occur near me.)

If You Take a Mouse to the Movies is another variant on If you Give a Mouse a Cookie, I presume? I thought the same thing though, "A muffin!" :)

I'm not familiar with If you Give a Mouse a Cookie, but my desk has disgorged the book I couldn't find earlier. The author is Laura Numeroff; it's illustrated by Felicia Bond.

If You Give a Mouse a Cookie was the original by the same duo. =) Looking on Amazon, there's also If you Give a Pig a Pancake and If You Take a Mouse to School. =) I only knew about Moose... Muffin and Mouse...Cookie. I'm happy to see so many other variants. =D

Absolutely brilliant - you totally made my day, thank you :)

Your post made me think of Moose In My House by Big Head Todd And The Monsters.

The bit about "Schrodinger's Cat Leavings" was especially wonderful.

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Wow, that would've been a huge time saver! No, I didn't--it's just sorta based on my trials and travails with the deer mice...

So as with Schrodinger's cat, the ambiguity is in the box. *g* As one intimately familliar with moose mess, leaving rich feeds unattended, such as cookies and 50 pound bags of oats, leads to sad boney moose with bloated bellies and a bad case of the runs. If sloughing through the slop isn't bad enough, the stench of the volitiles will have you gasping out the doorway in an instant. A wayward spark at that point would be catastrophic.

It's a wonder your cat could move.

I too took a trip down Lewis Carroll Lane. I resurected a Rodhocetus in rhyme. (Ambulocetus was a bit too crocodillian for my taste. Sorry.)