Soothing the Soul--Part 2

So as I wrote in my earlier post, today is National Chicken Soup for the Soul Day. It reminds us of how sharing our stories is so important; no matter how trivial we might think they are, no matter how much we might think, who is going to care to read this. Even if one person reads it and hears something in it that speaks to them, then taking the risk, having the courage to share, it was worth it. Whether you inspire them to write and share their own story, or you give them an ah-ha moment, or that comfort or little giggle of, it's good to know I'm not the only one; if your story reached somebody then you've touched someone's life or inspired them to action. So today of the many stories I could share, as I scanned the many book covers of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, I landed on this one....

I picked this cover, first, because it looks very much like our buddy, Larry the Cat, but more because when I recall a "I Can't Believe My Cat Did That!" story, I think Larry had it just right and had a lesson for all of us.

Early morning, rushing to get out the door, packing lunch, filling bags with papers, looking for my gloves and there he was, a little, furry, uninvited guest burning rubber as he streaked along the base of the cabinets from kitchen to family room. That scream of "MOUSE!" stuck in my throat; just like in those dreams you have where you need to scream and you are rendered silent. I finally dislodged the scream, but to no avail; as the other sleeping members in the house, safe in their beds, under the protection of blankets, were not at all alarmed that I was facing a furry little creature.

Here is where the illustrator would put a cute tiny mouse in the picture with the projection on the wall of a ten foot hairy beast with dripping fangs and claws poised ready to attack. I, of course, saw it as that projection on the wall. I was the damsel in distress, but alas I did have a knight in shining armor, in the beloved pet, we call Larry the Cat. In all my years of study in school, even before and certainly after, the lesson is cats chase and catch mice. Problem solved.

Well solved if your cat is not of the bloodline of Larry, who, while seeming to be the most perceptive cat I have ever witnessed, seems to have missed a few cat lessons, as he falls short in following through to pounce and capture. So as I tiptoed towards the family room trying to see where the ten foot beast could have possibly ran and hid; I spied him darting under the footstool by the fireplace. Hmmmm, could I trap him there? Wait, what's wrong with this picture? Why am I going to chase and pounce, this role reversal was not in my plans to get out the door on time. So I went back into the safety of the kitchen, where the mouse was not; and continued in my getaway tasks.

Now in between, Larry was certainly on the trail, running and sniffing the ground; although thinking about it, maybe he is part hunting dog, as those attributes say dog not sleek and pouncing cat. As I finished getting ready to go, and you know where I was probably going to go with this; leave to the safety of my car and workplace, text, "When you wake up you might want to take care of the mouse that has entered the house.", and leave the problem to the slumbering family members snuggled safely in bed; the ones who left me to whatever demise that hairy beast might have planned.

But there was an odd silence, an awkward quietness that loudly grabbed my attention. So I put my things down, tiptoed again (I really need to research why we tiptoe in the moments that we do) looked around the corner from kitchen to family room to see the most odd, yet perfect picture; and of course I didn't have my phone handy to snap the picture. Yet there sat Larry and across from him, only about six inches sat the mouse. Both looking at each other in complete stillness. Stillness that wasn't even broken by my ranting, "Larry, what are you doing, get him, he's right there, what are you going to do, talk him to death?, pounce already, get him!" But Larry and the mouse just stayed in that position for what seemed like unending minutes. Eventually their telepathic session ended and I'll say the mouse triumphed because it again ran and darted under a piece of furniture, Larry ambled that direction. I, of course being late now, fled the scene, without being attacked by the ten foot hairy creature, but with a little of those heebie jeebies you get when there is something or someone in your space that doesn't belong.

I did send a quick text, "Mouse in the house, epic fail on Larry's part, good luck!". Later that day I found the mouse had been sent along his way, we won't discuss the particulars. Larry did accomplish one thing that morning, he gave me a story that gave me a few giggles throughout the day; one that I would share with others who would also get a few laughs and share a few mouse stories; and later I would share the story with my class, who of course also had many cat and mouse stories to share.

Larry didn't do the intended or expected job that morning. Yet maybe he had it right all along. Not to pounce, but instead take your time, measure up the situation, try and reason it out. Of course, it doesn't always go in your favor, but then again, if we retreat to the safety of our own space to survive another day to learn from those situations then maybe we all triumph after all. Pouncing and the thrill of the catch, being triumphant or right, being the victor, isn't always what it is cracked up to be. I am happy to report Larry is improving in his mouse skills. It is a year later since that day and a freak mouse invasion; yes, I heard a loud commotion in the kitchen to see the corner of the screen pushed inward and another tiny furry mouse burning more rubber along the base of the cabinet, this time the destination point was under the refrigerator. This time Larry was on the job, but just a tad too slow. How that mouse made it in like he did, still puzzles me; all I know it is either time to enroll Larry in a refresher course of Mouse Pouncing 101, or time to move away from the woods and the country mice; maybe city mice aren't as neighborly to visit when they haven't been invited!

Something tells me that out in the mouse circuit of the woods, behind my house, there are posters on the trees;

"Good Eats, Friendly Cat, Enter House Ahead!".

Larry the Cat, friendly, or empathetic, or whatever might keep him from pouncing; maybe he has the story going the direction it should!