Playdate with Mr. Mole

This afternoon I arrived home after some shopping and saw Pong napping on the patio glider. He was glad to see me 'cause he wanted his afternoon snack. I busied myself traipsing in and out, putting things away, and was shutting the back door when I spied Pong running up the step with a LIVE MOLE in his mouth. I yelled "NO!" but he darted right past me INTO THE HOUSE, mole and all. I yelled again "NO, NO!" but as my friend would say, it was a waste of spit. He was thrilled, ran behind the recliner and let the mole go. Of course, the mole ran, which is exactly what Pong wanted, and the pounce and run game was on.

The other two Tonks thought this was a great idea. All of them were thrilled with the new arrival. The mole ran under a pillow sitting on the floor, the cats pawing away and sniffing. Well, some felines these guys turned out to be. There they were trying to get at the mole, and unbeknown to them, he had already slipped past them, ran along the wall, behind the entertainment unit, across the carpet, in front of the fireplace and behind the drapes. Terrific. Now I have to catch the damned mole myself! Lame, useless pusseycats, still pawing away at the pillow.

Grabbed the closest thing, some wrapping paper tissue from one of my purchases and tried to pick the mole up. Yikes, what if he bites? And he's rabid? I let go of him and he ran behind the bookcase. Swell. Now what? Can't do anything alone, so I'll have to wait until Jim gets home. Figured the mole would probably stay put, and the cats had already gotten bored with pillow pawing.

Well, I didn't have to wait long. Jim arrived, and I explained the whole predicament. He looked slightly amused, and rather proud of the brat cat's hunting prowess. I told him the mole was behind the bookcase, but he was doubtful. The plan was to unload the bookcase, move it away from the wall, and shack him out if he was there. Jim thought it might be easier to get Pong to catch him than one of us. I doubted it, considering their ineptness earlier, but didn't want to argue about it. Opened the door to get Pong back in the house, but Ball came inside instead. Well, Ball's a cat too, so I deposited him behind the bookcase to do his thing. No whisker twitching, no interest. He walked away. So much for Ball's hunting instincts. Picked him up, kicking and screaming, and put him behind the bookcase again. He ran away. Well, we tipped the bookcase up, and sure enough, there was the poor mole, hunkered down and looking rather pathetic. Since Jim was the one holding the bookcase, it fell to me to be the mole catcher. I donned a pair of heavy leather gloves, scooped up Mr. Mole and carried him to the front door. Jim open it, and I set my little rodent down between the bushes. He just laid there, kinda stunned, I guess. I gave him a little nudge, and he scampered off, free to fight another day.

Pong is on my list.

Here's the tribe in napping mode.