The Tale of the Red Mouse (Warning: Cat Post)

Baxter. He is the kitten of the group, even though he's probably close to a year old. He is constantly getting into things he shouldn't. Playing in the toilet. Chewing on cords. Tossing his body all around, into walls, on top of other cats and my head. As annoying as he is, he's extremely entertaining. Sometimes, I turn off the TV and just watch the him. I wish I was kidding.
This morning, he was especially crazy, and was annoying the fuck out of Timber. Timber is around 2 years old now, and finally past the kitten-stage. He only likes to play for about 15 minutes per day, the rest of time he'd rather roll himself up in a blanket, sort of like a furry burrito, and sleep. See?:


Anyway, Baxter was particulary annoying this morning, and this I know because Timber HISSED at him. I have known and loved Timber for over a year now and have never heard him hiss. He has the patient, loving nature of Gandhi himself. But Baxter just wouldn't stop. Finally, I had to do something. What can I do to distract Baxter from nawing on Timber's ears and chewing on his neck?
Then I remembered the mice.
I long ago discovered that the only toy cats truly love are the tiny little furry mice that actually resemble real mice, only in bright, obnoxious colors. I have purchased many mice over the past year. I'd even go as far to say thousands of tiny toy mice. They are usually lost within 4 minutes of giving the cats one to play with. I have to wonder where they are exactly. That many mice, you'd think a lost one would show up at some point, but no. They never do.
But Baxter has never had the pleasure of a tiny mouse to play with. We've only had him about a month, and the new pack of mice has been tucked away in the junk drawer, forgotten until this morning.
So, I tossed one to him.


I've never seen a cat quite so happy. I could have given him unlimited access to the toilet, with bacon on the side, and he wouldn't have been this happy. He tossed the mouse into the air, batted it around, held it in his mouth and ran up and down the hall, back and forth, stopping to throw it into the air again. The song "You're My Best Friend" floating through the air. He took a quick break after all the running and collapsed, mouse still in between his teeth. He jumped onto the bed, still clutching his prized possession, diving under the covers. Back to the hallway to run. This went on for hours.
Then, he got quiet. I walked into the "cat room", as we call it, and saw this:


He was drowning the mouse. Apparently, he had decided to off his new best friend, and he just couldn't kill it any other way.
I removed the mouse, dried it off a bit, and tossed it back to him. He promptly grabbed the mouse with his little mouth and trotted back over to the water.


He was, indeed, going to drown that fucker.
I watched for awhile, shrugged and walked away. Let him play in the water. If it keeps him occupied and out of my way for a few minutes, I'm happy. I think this is how parents end up letting their children play Wii for 14 hours a day.
Quite some time later, Baxter emerges from the cat room slowly. He is weary and blurry eyed. He's purely exhausted and drags himself up onto the couch, mouse still clamped in his jaw. He curls up on my legs and falls fast asleep in 7 seconds flat. I pry the mouse from his clutches and take a picture.


PS Don't you like my slippers?