Printer Jam
Bill Canfield sent these photos along to amuse us. And that they do!
Click on the photo to see another view of the little mouse that was safely freed from its predicament.
Click on the photo to see another view of the little mouse that was safely freed from its predicament.
posted by sallyann | 9:13 PM
5 Comments:
I still haven't stopped laughing!! Can't imagine the noise I would have made if I had opeed my printer and seen that little nose wiggling at me!!
Thanks for sharing it!
I have to tell this story about a “mouse episode” I had a few years ago to let the voters know I’m not the squeamish type.
It all started one night when Rusty my tiger cat was tormenting a small mouse just like the one pictured stuck in the printer. The tormenting took place in the middle room next to the piano. My rule for “saving mice” from the cats is: If I see it, I save them. The cats can do whatever they like “out of my sight”, but I just can’t stand to watch the cats torture any varmint in front of me. Anyway, Rusty was flipping the mouse in the air and batting it as it came down. The mouse of course, was squeaking at the top of its lungs which sent me into action.I got my old dish towel that I throw over the cats head that startles them and causes them to “release” the mouse from their jaws. Then I scoop up the mouse into the dish towel and release it into the field. That was the plan.
Just as I threw the towel at Rusty’s head, she lunged forward with the mouse in her mouth and the towel landed on Rusty’s back end. When I bent down to retrieve the towel for another try, Rusty dropped the mouse on the top of my sneaker and the mouse ran right up inside my pant leg to my kneecap. I can remember thinking that this was as good a time as any to freak right out! But my commitment to saving the mouse overrode any “girlie screaming I wanted to do at that moment”.
The mouse had secured itself with its little feet onto the inside of my pant leg. I bent down and folded the bottom of my pant leg shut and held it that way so the mouse couldn’t fall out where Rusty would catch it and then I’d have to start the saving mission all over again. Bent over and holding the bottom of my pant leg shut, I hobbled to the kitchen door and walked towards the field. By this time, the mouse had let go of its death grip on my pants and was running up and down my bare leg. To keep from caving into the hebbie be-geeies I just kept thinking it’ll be out of my pants in a few seconds. I was too close to convulsions.
I made it to the edge of the field and opened the bottom of my pant leg thinking the mouse would fall out. It didn’t. It climbed higher up my leg. My God, I thought, is this ever going to end! I wasn’t sure how much courage I had left in me. I concluded, not much.
Plan B.
I would “lower” the mouse to the ground and began to unfasten the button and zipper on my pants. I dropped my pants and Plan B backfired. The mouse tucked itself in one of the folds of the lowered pants. The upside of Plan B was, I couldn’t feel the mouse against my skin.
Plan C.
I pulled my pants up really fast and felt the mouse slide down my leg. I shook my leg and it fell out. Mission accomplished. I shuddered triumphantly the whole way back to the house. The lesson is: If I can handle a mouse in my pants, I can handle anything that comes my way at the Town Hall.
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God Sal, you have got way more control than I do! I would have stripped those pants off and jumped on the nearest object hopefully solid enough to hold my weight, screaming bloody murder all the while!
Don't know what it is about rodents, but they give we the willies!!
If you could keep your head with all that going on, I have no doubt you could handle anything!!
Bet Garfield laughed himself silly and said-serves you right for interferring with my lunch.
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