Everybody sing now:
Oven you.... is easy 'cause you're beautiful...
We came back from walking the dog and spotted a mouse leaping OUT of the TOASTER. It darted behind the oven and was gone. I assume he's got a special mousey crash pad back there, where the gas feed comes through the wall.
Or maybe this mouse has been hooking up Gomez with whatever speed he's been on, 'cuz brother, he's BACK from the surgery. He's a lightning bolt of weirdness. Bouncing off the walls like a maniac with ten minutes to live. That boxer spirit lives on, even without testicles. But that's beside the point.
We still have this mouse thing.
It would seem we're having a nice little synchronicity with a good friend, whose uninvited house-guests might resemble mice, but come with very fashionable leathery wings... She's tried to evict her guests, but they've recently come back. Or maybe it's just a misguided youngster. Anyway.
Our own little squatter is not nearly as fashionable, and we hope that having a speedfreak puppy in the house provides enough incentive for the little piece of hairy bastard popcorn to stay hidden. Or find someplace else to live.
Or perhaps I should be grateful.
I mean, if it wasn't for our little toaster mouse (I shall name him.....PopTart), I'd have no reason to photograph that space behind the oven.
So there. A silver lining. Thank you, little PopTart....wherever you are.