The other day, everyone left to go see the Volkswagen car factory that was going to be open for tours. I stayed home to make dinner b/c some new people from church were going to be coming over later. I had a little time before I had to start making the food so I went downstairs to clean up the Sunday school room, then into the kitchen to get a trash bag. I saw this ugly little gray fur ball thing run behind the refrigerator. We all knew there was a mouse in the church kitchen because he was leaving little prizes around. I stood there frozen for a second thinking, "what should I do?" Then..."RANGER!! GET IN HERE!!" I went outside looking for one of our neighbor's many cats, but of course when I needed one of them, they were no where to be found.
Well, Ranger came in and started sniffing around. His tail went as stiff as a poker. He got to the fridge and started barking his head off. This lasted for awhile, until FINALLY the mouse ran out...and out into the (then) storage room (now the youth new convert's classroom). Ranger was still stuck on the fridge...and that is when I realized that dogs are not nearly as quick or smart as cats. So Ranger got dragged into the room where the mouse was. I grabbed a chair and a broom stick for myself then shut the door. Also, in a moment of undeniable genius, I stuffed last year's Christmas costumes under the door so Mr. Mouse could NOT escape.
To be able to fully comprehend this experience, you must imagine a tiny, dusty room with no windows, one dangling light bulb, boxes strewn haphazardly, a rectangular wooden table top leaning against one wall, and bags ripped open with Austin's toys and clothes spilling out. No walking space. So I put my chair in the middle of the room, hoping this would save me from the dreaded nightmare of a mouse running up my leg. I started lifting boxes and bags with the broom stick and after about 10 minutes of 'clean up' we saw a flash of gray. Up until now, Ranger was switching between sniffing Austin's toys and whining at the door. (Probably so he could go catch that nasty mouse that was 'still in the kitchen'.--Thank goodness he has a smart master, right?) Anyways...
This story could go on and ON, but I'll shorten it. The mouse is running everywhere, having less and less places to hide as I pile things higher and higher. He ran over to the door a few times and would actually JUMP up in the air, then sniff. By the look on his face and the movement of his whiskers, I could tell he was wondering why he couldn't run under it. (I know these things.) But thanks to my moment of brilliance with the costumes, he could not escape! Hallelujah! Can I get an amen?
The mouse would run right in front of Ranger and I would say, "Ranger!! Look!" and point to it, and Ranger would run over to me and jump up on my chair, his eyes wide, tail just-a-waggin'. I'm screaming at him to GO GET IT!! But...I guess he's not as clever as we all thought he was. This lasted LITERALLY for 45 minutes. I know, b/c I was on the phone while I was cleaning the Sunday school room I saw the mouse. (I looked on the phone history at the time...ya.)
So this is supposed to be the short version, right. So fast forward...bzzzzz....
The mouse CLIMBS the table leaning out away from the wall (mice can climb, much to my horror!) and I SMAAAASH the table against the wall, the mouse falls, limps/races
towards Ranger (
obviously I had blinded him), runs BETWEEN Ranger's legs, Ranger's staring at me while I'm jumping and hollering, by the way so he doesn't see ANY of this. Then when it got past Ranger's back legs and ran out under his front legs, Big Ears over here finally saw him, snatched him in his mouth, and carried him over to the previously collapsed bulletin board. Ranger would bite him, then let him go and the handicapped mouse would try to run, then Ranger would bite him and so on.
Well, I actually cried when Ranger killed him...It was kind of REALLY gross to see a mouse killed, but I could NOT look away. Then Ranger got booted out of the church (he's really not allowed in there). He ran upstairs to the house and laid his offering right at the top of the stairs. I was still feeling quite traumatized so I ran all the way to some saint's from our church's house so I could call my parents and tell them what THEIR dog did. (We didn't have a phone that would call out.)
I get there, heaving and choking (I'm not used to running for 5 miles, straight ;), and rang the doorbell. The lady comes to the door and says, "Are you ok? What HAPPENED?" Me--"Uh...nothing. Ranger just killed a mouse. And I need to use your phone to call my parents to see when they'll be home." (So my dad could do something with the mouse in front of our door).
And can you BELIEVE...their phone "doesn't call cellphones anymore. We canceled it."
Well thanks a ton for your help.
Needless to say, by the time I got to a phone, I was 'all better' and all of this didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.
This is what Ranger would do every time I went near HIS mouse. He would pick it up and toss it up in the air and it would land on the concrete with this disgusting slapping noise. He was so proud.
The End.
