Nuts

We live in the country, and like, us our friends pursue country activities. One of our friends had picked some hazel nuts and pocketed them. Later, at home, whilst relaxing on the sofa, the nuts in the trousers became uncomfortable. They had to come out and so, came to be placed in a small pile on the carpet, at my friends' feet. My friend thought it odd that the nuts had, over the following few hours, begun to migrate across the room and had regrouped in a corner. The next day the nuts had disappeared.

It seemed there was a mouse in the house.

This was, by coincidence, the day my friend had chosen to turn their mattress. It's not an easy job, turning a king size mattress on your own, having first evicted your very spoilt cat from its' favourite sleeping spot. My friend had managed to heave the mattress into a vertical position and was uttering the words, “And breath …,” when something under the bed came into view. Lurking down there, in the dark and the dust, was a small pile of nuts, each with a neat hole nibbled in the end. It was all that remained of the nut pile from the living room.

My friend scolded the plumtious pet cat (PPC) who spends most of every day curled up asleep on this very bed. PPC should have caught any mouse, especially one that's carting in armfuls of hazel nuts and then proceeding to gnaw them – loudly. With the mess of nuts tidied up, the task of re-making the bed was finished and my friend enjoyed a late night cup of cocoa.

Later on, my friend prepared to go to bed. Having first removed PPC, her bed towel with images of pussy cats all over it, and the protective plastic sheet, used to keep the cat hairs away from the bed linen– house proud, my friend. With riotous abandon, the covers were thrown back, to reveal one very surprised mouse. After a moments hesitation on all three parts, the mouse zipped off before my friend could galvanize into action. PPC watched impassively as it raced past her nose.

My friend delayed 'bed time' in order to set a mousetrap with chocolate. The trap was placed behind the TV, after which my friend finally slid into bed. Like all of us, my friend luxuriated in the crisp, fresh, bedlinen and was soon seen floating towards Bedfordshire on a hazy, soft cloud. Dreaming driftingly of gentle things, my friend was benignly disturbed by a wriggling sensation between the shoulder blades that resolutely pulled the conscious from the sleep. Awake now and leaping up and out of the warm nest, my friend was closely followed by that little mouse who promptly disappeared. PPC looked on sleepily. So much fuss. How's a cat supposed to sleep?

My friend pondered the situation, because, I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to get into bed with a wild mouse. Perhaps I'd use one of the guest rooms, or even a sofa. But, you know what? That's not what my friend did. Once tucked up snugly in that freshly made bed, my friend was soon drifting off into a nervously fitful sleep. Now we all know what's coming. Once again there was the same sensation between the shoulder blades.

This time my friend jumped clean out of bed taking off the bedlinen and the mouse in one fell swoop. The mouse, now on the floor, ran across the carpet, only to be whacked with a convenient slipper. The mouse was propelled onto its' side, its' little legs were peddling frantically in free air. My friend grabbed his phone and dotted the little creature on the nose, killing it out right at this second attempt. PPC watched disdainfully from the comfort of the bedroom chair.

Once again I come back to the thought, that if you want a job done, do it yourself.

This is a true story, it happened this week. Identity of my mouse murdering friend withheld!