A Post About the Mouse in My House

Before we left for Florida last week, I became convinced I was not alone in my apartment. I’m usually not actually alone in my apartment, because usually Carmichael, the muppet/cat I adopted last year, is also at home with me. But he was staying at Chase’s (we keep the cats together in one apartment when we go out of town to make it easier for our friends to feed them. This works perfectly well for them, it would not necessarily work perfectly well for all cats) so I should have been alone. I then heard what sounded like some squeaking coming from the second bedroom/office/litter box/Peloton…