I’m easily distracted. While the CD’s soothing music and voiceover played, my mind wandered to the mouse Dulcie had been toying with earlier but which seemed to have escaped. I contemplated:
How can I get rid of the mouse? Is it the same mouse I thought I dispatched a few weeks ago, when Dulcie cornered it but didn’t kill it? I caught it with the Nifty Nabber gripping tool and tried to throw it in the lake, but I couldn’t fling it that far. Now that a path has been mowed to my waterfront, I probably could.
Can mice swim? If they can, would it swim away from shore? Would I just be inflicting it on my neighbors, or would it make its way back to my house?
Is it still murder when the victim is a mouse? I don’t want to kill things. Not really. (Except scorpions. Really.) But I know that humans and mice cannot peaceably coexist. Cats can help; humans figured that out in the Middle Ages.
I refocused on love and asked: What’s the kindest, most loving way to get rid of the mouse?
The most natural solution would be for Dulcie to kill it, but I’m not sure she knows how. Kittens learn the technique from their mothers. Dulcie was 10 or 12 weeks old, living in the woods, when my neighbor rescued her and brought her to me. I know she’d been killing something to eat; I just don’t know that it was mice.
By the time the meditation ended, the situation had temporarily resolved itself. Dulcie was lying calmly on the bed, and the mouse was nowhere in sight.
Final resolution came later, when the mouse reappeared and the chase resumed. This time, I caught it with the Nabber and carried it outside. I didn’t have to decide about throwing it in the lake. It escaped.