Cat and Mouse

NOTE: The winner of the drawing for a free copy of the soon-to-be-released "Caesar's Fall" is Sid Porter, whom I've been unable to contact for some reason. Sid, please drop me a note: doriengrey@gmail.com.

My computer desk has a built-in bookcase in the back. When the lid of my laptop is open, it acts like a wall, creating a nice little cubbyhole into which my cat enjoys crawling for a nap, using the computer modem as a warm pillow.

Since I hate using the built-in cursor pad on the laptop, which requires jiggling my index finger around to move the cursor, I bought an external, retractable "regular" mouse. It has a little device in the middle of the cord into which the cord retracts and from which it extends. When bored, which seems to be whenever he isn't napping, Spirit becomes fascinated with it while in the cubbyhole and begins to play with it. Though I can't see him behind the lid of the laptop, I know when he's doing it because it occasionally results in the mouse being yanked out of my hand.

Last night, I was working away on the computer when Spirit jumped up onto the desk and went into the cubbyhole. He did not immediately lay down with his head on the modem, however, apparently busy with other things. I discovered what the "other things" were when suddenly the cursor on the screen stopped moving. I moved the mouse around in small circles on the mouse pad. Nothing. Did it again. Nothing. Finally, I picked it up and turned it over to see if the little red light underneath was on. It was not. Lifting it up higher, I found myself holding the mouse and about six inches of severed cord.
Lowering the laptop lid, I found Spirit staring at me in wide-eyed innocence. (He'd been smart enough to drop the other half of the cord.)

My relief that he hadn't electrocuted himself was, I admit, secondary to my first reaction that, since he'd killed the mouse, I should make him eat it. I reluctantly decided against it on the grounds that if the occasional hairball were not bad enough, his hacking up small pieces of metal and plastic all over the apartment would be even more of a problem.

I determined to buy a new one this morning, which I did, and once again was in awe of the technology involved in modern packaging. Have you ever tried to remove something from those hard-plastic, heat-shrunk containers? Nearly impossible. I understand this is a deliberate ploy on the part of the manufacturer, ostensibly to prevent theft, but I'm convinced the real reason is to vicariously enjoy the rage and frustration of the customer in trying to open it. Proof of this point lies in the fact that if I'm out to steal a plastic-wrapped mouse, I'll just steal the whole thing, package and all. At any rate, I ended up using a razor blade and pair of scissors and still had to tear the damned thing into shreds.

This particular "protective case" had a bubble in front formed over the mouse, and a small heavy-plastic encased box on the back for the retractable cord. So after scissoring and razor-blading and ripping and tearing and shredding (and cursing) I found to my indescribable joy that the small box on the rear of the pack was empty. No cord.

So back to the store for a replacement--a different model with the cord (unfortunately not retractable) visible through the plastic. And, following the same cut and slash and rip and tear (oh, yes, and those torn edges of heavy plastic could are sharp enough to easily be used to perform brain surgery).

But I have my new mouse now, and I am pleased to see the cord is considerably thicker than the one Spirit chewed through. So I am confident that the problem has been resolved and will not be repeated.

Riiiight!

New entries are posted by 10 a.m. Central time every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Please come back...and bring a friend. Your comments are always welcome. And you're invited to stop by my website at http://www.doriengrey.com, or drop me a note at doriengrey@att.net.