The Life of a Cat: Setting the Record Straight

Posted on September 25, 2025 by Sheila Moss

MEMO: To Whom It May Concern

FROM: Shadow, The Cat

SUBJECT: The Life of a Cat

It has come to my attention that I am being called several malicious names and subjected to false accusations. I hope to set the record straight.

Firstly, it has been alleged that I am overweight, in other words, a “fat cat”. This is totally untrue. I am oversize, but I wish to remind you that I am a Tomcat. As such, I am larger in size than smaller female counterparts. Furthermore, at my medical checkup, I passed the weigh-in. Yes, it was close, but as long as I keep my current weight, I am okay.

Secondly, I am accused of scratching the furniture. My human has covered up all possible scratching surfaces, and I am forced to scratch only my scratching posts. These posts are enjoyable, but a little variety would be helpful to resolve my scratching instinct. After all, I am a cat. What can you expect? I have discovered that the doormat makes a wonderful scratching pad, as long as my human does not know.

Third, there is the matter of the pesky dog. I do believe that silly mutt wants us to be friends. I do not need any dog friends. Hello. Dogs and cats are natural enemies. I believe I am being quite patient by not scratching his eyes out. Of course I hiss when he gets too close. I want to show him who is the boss. He must not think that he is the dominant animal around here.

Fourth, there is the ridiculous accusation that I am too affectionate. The human claims I wake her up by jumping and walking on her in the middle of the night. Five-thirty in the morning is not the middle of the night! If she would take nice little cat naps like me, she would not sleep all day. Also, she should appreciate my loving rubs and purrs. I could be hostile and hiss at her. She is lucky I am such a patient feline.

Fifth, there is the matter of my climbing on top of the refrigerator, kitchen cabinets, and table. I also climb on kitchen counters and anything else I can jump on. She must realize that cats are curious. We naturally want to explore our environment. I am not going to walk on the cooktop. I won’t get burned. She can stop using that as an excuse to harass me.

On other matters, the litter box provided is adequate for the time being. I am a factitious feline and well-mannered in matters of toileting. She can be grateful for that. I would prefer an extra litter box in the bathroom. I hope she will get on that demand before long. Enough said.

The cat food provided is dry and bland. Other cats at the shelter where I used to live said that wet cat food is really delicious. I have not had an opportunity to sample this wet food. I believe the human is deliberately withholding it. They want to keep me eating dry food. If I ever taste wet food and like it, she will be sorry. Cats are finicky and I shall never touch dry food again.

Toys: The human tried to get me to play with catnip mice and chase a laser light. These toys are not interesting and beneath my dignity. On the other hand, the feather toy on a string drives me out of my mind. I should ignore it, but I can’t resist. With my excellent hearing, I hear the tiny bells tinkle. I run from the back of the house and amuse the humans by chasing the silly feather toys.

I am an “inside only” cat. This is better than being locked in a cage all day at the shelter. All in all, I am happier at my new home than at the earlier one where I was unwanted. I am a handsome, long-haired black cat, friendly and loving. Who would not want a cat like me?

I was told there were mice here to catch, but I’ve not seen any mice. I have a feeling they all jumped ship when they realized a cat was around. Good riddance.

I will continue breaking in my new humans and hope they can be trained soon to understand cats.

So, that’s a wrap.

(P.S. You don’t need to mention this memo to my human. She doesn’t like it when I walk on the computer keyboard.)

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , | 5 Comments

Adopting a Wildcat: Two Weeks from Hell

Posted on August 28, 2025 by Sheila Moss

I wanted a cat and I got one. I named him Shadow but should have named him Satan. He is a holy terror, a wildcat, part panther, I think. “He will settle down,” everyone says. It has been two weeks and he hasn’t settled yet. He has claimed the back bedroom as his own. It has the old cat tree that I dragged in from the garage. I put it in front of a window so he can look out. But, he is more interested in jumping from the top level.

I worried about the dog frightening him. But, that is not a problem. He is a bully and seems to seek opportunities to hiss at the dog. The dog is accustomed to being an only pet. He doesn’t know what to make of this strange black hissing creature that has invaded his turf.

The trouble with a shelter cat is that you eventually see why someone else did not want him. He seems starved to death for affection, rubs on your legs wanting to be petted. “Yes, cat, I love you too, but please get your butt out of my face.” So, you have a session of cat petting. He purrs like a motor boat. A little bit of love makes him want more. It is hard to fault him for this. I hope eventually he will be secure enough to let us have peace without being so aggressive in his demands.

He does use the litter box. Thank goodness as that is a deal breaker. He is so enthusiastic in his scratching that he throws litter far and wide. I have to clean it up or it will be tracked all over the house. I think (hope) it is partly the litter brand, which is very light weight.

I ordered a 40 lb box of litter from Chewy, not realizing how heavy 40 pounds is. I don’t know how the delivery person got it off the truck. I did not move it much less lift it. Finally, I managed to scoot it onto a luggage dolly I had almost forgotten I had. Now that it has wheels, I’m not sure what to do with it.

I also bought a scratching post in hopes the cat would use it instead of the furniture. He uses both. Declawing cats is considered cruel and has fallen into disfavor. So I spend a lot of time saying, “No, NO!,” trying to train him, and praising him when he uses the scratching post.

He jumps on everything, the furniture, the table, the kitchen counters. The counters are a definite no-no as he will walk onto the hot range. He quickly conquered the top of the refrigerator and from there the top of the kitchen cabinets. I got him catnip mice and a laser toy to distract him, but he doesn’t seem interested. He would rather get into mischief.

I caught him chewing on my plants. “NO!” Plants can be toxic to cats! He must have ingested some as he threw up. At least that seems to have curbed his enthusiasm for house plants other than scratching dirt out of the pot. My other cats never bothered plants.

We have to limit his food intake as he is overweight. He is always interested when it is time to eat. He drinks a lot of water for a cat and empties his water bowl. I think he is getting help as I caught the dog drinking from it last night.

Well, that pretty much sums up my first two weeks with the new cat. I mentioned how much he likes to rub you, purr and get petted, day or night. He also loves to jump from the top of the cat tree to the bed where I am sleeping. Nothing like having an 11 pound cat drop on your chest in the middle of the night.

I am hoping he will settle down and start behaving himself with patience and training. All of this is just stuff young cats do. I can’t give him back now. I’ve spent money on a carrying case, food, litter, toys, a personalized collar, and the adoption fee. I think he is just testing his limits. He is certainly testing mine.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Rants | Tagged , , , , , , | 10 Comments

The Journey of Adopting a Cat

Posted on August 16, 2025 by Sheila Moss

I said I was getting out of the cat business when my former cats both died in the same year. Cats scratch up the furniture. They shed on everything. They cost a fortune in food and vet bills. Then, they die and break your heart. I did not quit liking cats, I just quit owning cats.

Nevertheless, “Once a cat person, always a cat person,” I suppose, as I’ve just adopted another one. A stray mouse realized we no longer had cats. It decided this was the opportunity it had been waiting for. Everyone told me, “Get a cat, get a cat.” I had tried everything else, up to and including an exterminator. The cat was my last resort.

“Where can we get a cat?” asked Honey.

“Are you kidding me? Everyone is trying to re-home cats on the Internet. Unwanted cats are as frequent as cat memes on Facebook”

Normally, cats choose you. One showed up on our patio, climbed up on the barbecue grill and wouldn’t leave. Our neighbor’s son found one at the airport. My daughter rescued one after almost running over it. These are just a few examples. NOT getting a cat is the hard part.

Having never adopted from a shelter, I had no idea it was so complicated. You would think I was adopting a baby, not a homeless, unwanted, shelter cat. I expected to walk in, say “I will take that one,” and they would wrap it up. Of course, things are never that easy.

I had a friend with kittens that she wanted to re-home. One was really cute, solid white with blue eyes. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. Unfortunately, her son had bonded with it and she no longer wanted to give it away. Strike one.

After scouring all the rescue pets on Adopt a Pet, I found another white one at Metro Animal Control. It had green eyes, but I was willing to compromise. Before I got there to claim it, it was adopted by someone else. Strike two. Well, at least it has a home.

I found a white cat with blue eyes at another shelter. But it was a “special needs” cat because it was deaf. Did you know that 85% of white cats with blue eyes can’t hear? It has something to do with the genetic code. It needed a home with no other cats as it was fearful and nervous. I figured no other cats also meant no dogs. Strike three

While looking for a white cat, I noticed a ton of black cats were available, some quite striking. I have heard that black cats are hard to place as people in the U.S. associate them with bad luck. Oddly enough, in Ireland and some other countries they are considered good luck. Ancient Egyptians famously worshiped cats, even the black ones.

So, I picked out one and hoped it would not be adopted before I got there. It was a large, fluffy male cat, a gorgeous cat. I sent an inquiry and they sent me an application two pages long in fine print. “Have you ever owned a cat? Do you have any pets now?, Who will take care of the cat if you go on vacation? What if you can no longer take care of the cat? Yadda, Yadda, Yadda.

I filled it all out as “incomplete applications will not be considered.” A different shelter wanted a video of your home. I decided that was too much just to adopt a cat. It seems like an invasion of privacy as well as a security concern. Who else would see this video of your entire home?

Well, anyhow we got the fluffy black cat I wanted. We are trying to follow Jackson Galaxy protocol and separate it from the dog. On day one it was happy to stay in its room. On the second day we let it see the dog. Simba has never seen a cat, and the cat has never been around a dog. Eventually, they will adjust. I only hope it does not turn into a whirlwind of fur and claws.

Now it needs a name. I scoured the Internet again for lists of cat names. Some names are too common (Fluffy), some too cute (Eightball), and some linked to evil (Salem). Out of hundreds so far I’ve selected a few possibilities: Midnight, Shadow, Karma, TickTock, Stormy, and Twizzler.

As far as the mouse, I hope it is cursing and packing its suitcase.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 13 Comments

My Ongoing Battle with Household Mice

Posted on August 8, 2025 by Sheila Moss

I can’t ever remember having so much difficulty with rodents. As you recall, I earlier mentioned that a mouse has taken up residence in my house. Even worse, it has chosen my mattress as the perfect abode.

I did all the usual things that one does to get rid of a mouse. Finally, I called in the big guns and hired an exterminator. Unfortunately, the exterminator had no better luck than I did in spite of poison and special traps. It is absolutely maddening. How can a varmint with a brain the size of a pea outsmart even a professional?

Eventually, I decided to surrender and throw away the mattress along with the unwelcome resident. I went online to Mattress Firm and selected another mattress. My mattress was old anyhow, I reasoned, and a new buy would be worth the money.

I paid extra to have the delivery guys cart out the old one and didn’t mention the resident rodent. I was really afraid it would jump out when they carried it away. Nothing happened. Thank goodness, my plan was a success.

Did I say it was a success? Actually, not exactly. It was only three days until I heard the unmistakable sound of scratching and chewing again. The mouse had found the new mattress and loved his new condo. I’m sure it was rolling out the rug, arranging furniture and hanging pictures.

By now, you are probably wondering what filthy home I am running. I must be a hoarder or slovenly house keeper to attract rodents. I swear, I run a stellar operation, empty trash, clean, and de-clutter on a regular basis. I have even hired a maid service to come weekly. According to what I read, it has nothing to do with cleanliness and even the finest mansions can have mice.

Unlike rats, a house mouse is curious. It will seek out tiny secret places to live. They can live for three days on a crumb as small as a piece of dog kibble. Even worse, they stockpile eats for their dining pleasure at a later time. Their incisors constantly grow and they must chew to keep them at a manageable length. The mouse dentist can be proud as my critter maintains his teeth in exceptional condition.

So, what to do. I consulted AI and followed every suggestion to no avail. I bought sticky traps and high-frequency sound deterrents. I bought mint mouse spray as mice dislike mint. I have the most delicious mint-smelling bedroom in town. The only thing I did not do was spray cat urine. My friends would think I’m nuts. “Hey, would you mind bringing me a pint of your cat’s pee?”

Cats are predators and mice are deathly afraid of them. I guess that explains why I have never had a mouse problem before. I’ve always had cats. Most people say “get a cat” when I tell them my problem. But cats are trouble. They shed on everything, scratch the furniture, want expensive food and have sky-high vet bills. And after they cost you a fortune, they die and break your heart. I’m not sure which is worse, a mouse or a cat.

I think I will have to throw away a brand new mattress. But if it didn’t work before, what’s to say it will work this time? Nonetheless, if this continues, I will soon spend more on exterminators and repellents than the cost of the mattress. I keep thinking it will eat the poison the exterminator put out and eventually die. It is quiet for a day or two and my hopes are up, then it returns.

At this point, there seem to be only a few things left to do. I will throw out the mattress and not buy a new one. Second choice is to get another stupid cat. Lastly, I name the mouse “Micky” and learn to live with it. If I was sure it was “Micky” and not “Minnie,” that would be a choice.

But what if the scratching I hear is mamma mouse preparing a nursery? I will soon have dozens of mini-critters running around.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Home, Humor | Tagged , , , , | 10 Comments

Buzzwords We Love to Hate

Posted on July 24, 2025 by Sheila Moss

Sometimes it’s the little things that get under our skin. According to the old adage, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” As a craftier of words, I take exception to this. Words can be very powerful, but some of them make us simply scratch our head and wonder.

Are there certain expressions that make you cringe every time you hear them? Maybe everyone has words or phrases that make them bristle like a cat being rubbed backwards, or is it is just me? Anyhow, I have started writing them down. Here are a few buzzwords that will probably be in the Oxford Dictionary soon if they are not already.

Baby bump – Sounds like child abuse, doesn’t it? Celebrities and others have taken to calling their pregnant belly a baby bump. It is supposed to be a cute way of saying, “Look at me, I’m expecting!” Call it what it is, your fat pregnant belly, and stop showing it off in front of a camera. We know what you end up with is a beautiful thing, but truthfully, your fat belly isn’t cute.

Photo bomb – Sounds like a terrorist photographer. Ever try to take a picture on vacation and have it spoiled by all the other tourists trying to take the same picture? The expression was probably invented by paparazzi, angry that their perfect shot isn’t worth a dime because someone else wandered into the frame and the picture “bombed.” Sometimes it is an accident, sometimes a deliberate gag, and sometime due to the giant ego of someone who wants to steal the show. What ever happened to the word “bloopers”?

BOGO sale – What the heck is a BOGO and why are they on sale? This term is an often seen in online ads and in supermarket circulars. It came from an acronym used in text messages and means “buy one, get one free.” Why don’t they just say this? I have to wonder how many sales are lost due to senseless, witty expressions. I thought they were still called twofers, which shows how behind the times I am. I doubt that I’m the only one, however, who doesn’t need a BOGO today. Thanks anyhow.

Twerking – We know what it technically means, a combination of “twist,”and “work.” Most people think Miley Cyrus invented the word to explain her sexually suggestive MTV performance, but actually the word is much older than Cyrus. Some say it is African and some say it appeared first in rap music. Miley learned to twerk and hasn’t stopped since. I seriously do not want to see or hear this word again. If you must display your private parts, call it something less silly sounding than twerking.

Black ice – Dirty snow? Frozen slush? Show me some black ice. There is no such thing. Weather reporters are probably responsible for this one. It seems that thin ice on asphalt is transparent and appears to be black. This is another terminology that is a bit too clever for me. It is thin ice, invisible ice, or an ice-slick road. Reality is ominous enough for most drivers.

Bucket list – Good grief, I cannot figure out why anyone would want to carry around a list in a bucket. As it turns out, it is supposed to mean a list of things you want to do before you die. (Die meaning, kick the bucket.) I suppose it is meant to be humorous. The thing about a “to do” list is that it is never finished as there are always more things to do. If you never finish your list, do you have to carry a bucket with you to eternity? If you finish your bucket list, does that mean you are ready to die?

You probably have a few words that are pet peeves that you can add to my list right now. I’m sure I will think of more and grit my teeth every time I hear it. Buzzwords seem to come and go with the times. Sometimes they go out of vogue before the dictionary even has a chance to add them.

Come to think of it, I don’t much care for the term “buzzword” either.

Copyright 2014-25 Sheila Moss

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Driving Through Cataract Surgery

Posted on July 18, 2025 by Sheila Moss

When Honey went to the eye doctor for his regular exam, he received some bad news. “I have to have eye surgery!” he told me. My mind quickly conjured up all sorts of horrible maladies.

“I have to have cataract surgery,” he explained.

Cataract surgery is very common. In fact, almost everyone will have to have it at around age 70 if they live long enough. It is out-patient surgery, takes about 30 minutes and they don’t even put you to sleep.

I tried to reassure him. Of course, just like every sniffle is man-flu, every eye problem is a near-death experience. Thank goodness surgery was scheduled soon, so I would not have to hear him obsess about it for months.

“You have to drive me — I won’t be able to drive!” he exclaimed. Not being able to drive for a man is almost worse than having surgery.

By the time the day finally arrived, Honey had only reminded me about a dozen times that I would have to drive him. To be fair, he knows how much I hate to drive downtown during rush hour. But in a case like this, there is really no choice.

For some reason surgery is always scheduled at the crack of dawn. “You have to get up early.” Honey obsessed. I didn’t need an alarm as he woke me up 30 minutes before it went off, not that he was anxious or anything.

“You can drive there,” I said, “And I will drive us home.”

The traffic was bumper to bumper. For some reason the state has installed new electronic speed limit signs and the highway department loves changing the speed limit to 30 mph creating rear-end panic among drivers. It used to be officially 70 mph and unofficially as fast as you can crawl in heavy traffic.

Honey mumbled and complained and I held on to the door handle as tightly as possible. I am sure that if we ever have an accident they will say, “If she had only held onto the door tighter, it wouldn’t have happened.”

They always have you arrive an hour early for medical procedures so you have plenty of time to get nervous. The surgery, however, went without incident. The drive home did not. When I went out to get the car, it was pouring rain, and I don’t mean ordinary rain. It was monsoon.

My umbrella, of course, was in the car as who knew it would rain. I had no choice but to go outside through the rain as the nurse was waiting at the front door with him in a wheelchair. I was soaked to the skin getting to the car.

“How was the surgery?” I asked.

“I don’t remember,” he said. That seemed a little strange, but whatever…

The drive home was a nightmare, rain so hard I could not see anything except the fuzzy taillights of the car in front of me and the many puddles on the road.

The air conditioner was on and I was freezing as I was soaking wet. I could not take my eyes off the road long enough to adjust it. “Can you turn the air off?” He tried, but couldn’t see and managed to poke every button but the right one. By the time we arrived home, I was a Popsicle.

The good news is we made it home in spite of cold air and rain storms. The bad news is we get to do it again in two weeks for the other eye. They only do one eye at a time because — well — it’s your eyes, for God’s sake. Just in case something goes wrong, you will still have one left. Reassuring isn’t it?

The second trip was much less eventful than the first. I asked the nurse why he can not remember the surgery from the first eye. “I thought they did not put you completely to sleep.” I mused.

“You are awake,” she said, “But the sedative we use causes temporary amnesia.”

He made it through the second surgery without incident, and we made it home eventually after detours to Petsmart and Publix. Honey can almost see now except for small print. He is sure he can drive to his regular Bridge game tomorrow. I just hope he can see the cards.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Health, Humor, Weather | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Don’t Take Any Wooden Nickels 

Posted on June 27, 2025 by Sheila Moss

The internet is full of warnings for seniors on how to avoid scams. Old people are supposed to be easy marks. We all have dementia and are not intelligent enough to recognize a scam when we see one. It is downright insulting. 

However, scammers are clever and have ingenious ways to trick you out of money. I am beginning to think the warnings are not as ridiculous as I thought. I must confess I have recently been scammed.  

I know about emails that are SPAM and try to trick you into some obvious scam either too good to be true: “Take this vitamin and cure your arthritis.” or use fear to suck you in: “Pay this fine for your parking ticket now or your driver’s license will be suspended.” 

Anyhow, you’ve seen them too and know the kind of stuff that comes via text or email. So how is it that I got taken again? I saw this clever little ad online. “Take this IQ test and see if you are getting dementia.” It might be interesting to know my IQ, I thought, and I clicked.  

The test seemed legitimate, mostly spatial recognition like a standardized test in high school. I sailed through the test having the time of my life. It was so much fun, and I was certain my IQ was at least 150. “I am going to send this link to my Honey,” I thought. He is smarter than me and likes this sort of stuff. 

Of course, when I got to the end, there was a small fee, only $1.00 to get your score. I bit. It’s only a dollar and I had put so much energy into taking the test. As soon as I paid my dollar, I received a message thanking me for subscribing and telling me that I would be charged $9.99 per week for access until I unsubscribed. Woah! What? I tried to unsubscribe, but all the links were to 404 error messages. Great, now what? 

My only salvation was that I used PayPal to pay. At least I was smart enough not to give them my new credit card number. (My old number was compromised, but that’s another story.) I went to PayPal and was able to get contact information. I emailed them unsubscribing in no uncertain terms. I immediately received a reply, obviously an auto response. I hope I am rid of them but will have to watch my account now to be sure they don’t try to keep billing me. By the way, my IQ turned out to be average 116. I’m not sure. If it was average, how did I get taken by their scam? 

The really bad thing was that I had just been taken a few weeks prior while trying to renew my driver’s license online. I Googled and got the link, “Renew your Tennessee driver’s license.” After clicking and going through the renewal process, I received a form to fill out to take to the Department of Motor Vehicles. Going to the DMV was what I was trying to avoid. That little escapade cost me $35, and my credit card number was stolen. Apparently, they had no connection to the State of Tennessee at all and were simply selling forms and lies. I later found the right link, but it was too late, and I had to pay the DMV again to renew.

I thought I had learned a lesson after that, but apparently not as I was scammed again with the IQ test, as previously mentioned. My daddy used to always have a favorite saying, “Don’t take any wooden nickels.” That was some sound advice; however, if you happen to need any wooden nickels, I have a pocketful to share with you.  

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss 

Posted in Finance, Humor | Tagged , , , , , | 8 Comments

Ed the Zebra’s Wild Adventure

Posted on June 9, 2025 by Sheila Moss

Zebras are not simply horses with stripes as our local community found out last week. Ed the Zebra jumped a fence and escaped from his owner’s Tennessee farm only one day after arriving. Ed’s owner had intended him to be a pet. People own exotic animals for a variety of reasons: The novelty and prestige of ownership, business opportunities, such as breeding or tourism, or simply for companionship and a unique hobby.

Obviously, such animals require specialized care and consideration. Zebras are equines, like horses and donkeys, but are native to Africa. They live in grasslands and are capable of running long distances at high speed — not easy to capture when loose. Cute as they may appear with their handsome black and white stripes, zebras are wild animals. They can bite, kick, and be very dangerous if approached.

After his escape from the farm, Ed the Zebra went on a wild escapade, being spotted running the streets of a subdivision and even galloping down the interstate highway. Local authorities asked for the public’s help in reporting any sightings of the animal.

The public nicknamed him Ed and became fascinated with the creature and his various adventures, so fascinated that he became a social media phenomime. After all, how many zebras do you see trotting down a city street or munching grass in a neighborhood lawn.

Local media picked up the story and soon even national media found the story newsworthy. It wasn’t long before the famous zebra became even more famous as sightings were posted on social media. Not to pass up an opportunity to get a little free publicity, Ed began to be reported in some very suspect places, such as the local Waffle House, a car repair shop, or a donut store. The Internet loves a funny joke and thus memes of Ed in all manner of impossible scenarios appeared.

Well, apparently the zebra was very good at avoiding capture and disappeared into the wooded areas of suburbia. He managed to avoid the sheriff’s posse for over a week until, as luck would have it, he was spotted in a outlaying meadow. Run as he might, he was unable to hide fast enough to escape the cameras of the drones.

Professional livestock herders from Texas netted the equine and air-lifted him by helicopter to captivity. While it was sad to see the clever animal nabbed by law enforcement and brought to justice, it was a relief that he was unharmed in his wild adventures, real and imagined.

His owners were happy to have him home and changed his former name to Ed, since that was what he was popularly known by. He is resting up on the farm, and, hopefully, has a new pen with a higher fence. The community never imagined that we would have a zebra loose in town. He brought a bit of humor and adventure to break the monotony of an ordinary week.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, News & Current Events | Tagged , , | 7 Comments

Mouse in the House

Posted on June 1, 2025 by Sheila Moss

It was 3:00 in the morning when strange sounds woke me up. It sounded as if something was scratching the bottom of my bed. “That dumb dog is under the bed,” I thought. “Get! Get out of here,” I mumbled.

The noises stopped momentarily, then continued. Now it was louder and sounded as if something was chewing wood. I felt something like a lump in the mattress that moved from one part of the bed to another.

“That dog is under the bed and stuck!” I realized I was going to have to get up. How is a person supposed to get any sleep around here? I was trying to figure out how to get him out when I had a horrible thought. Maybe I need to be sure it is the dog. I tiptoed out and checked his bed. There he was sound asleep.

“Wait! If the dog is asleep, then what is under my bed?” A poltergeist? A wild animal of some sort? But how could a squirrel get inside? A ghost, a rat, a mouse? My mind went wild. Remember it is 3:00 in the morning and I am half asleep.

“I’m not sleeping in a room that is haunted,” I thought. So, I went into another bedroom and crawled into the bed where I could sleep in peace.

The next day I told Honey “There is something under my bed, a critter, I think.” Now that I was awake and thinking more clearly, I realized it must be a mouse. I have had mice before, but in the garage, not the bedroom. Why the bedroom instead of the kitchen?

I had my son pull out everything under the bed: two games, and a folded card table, nothing that would interest a varmint. “Mom, there is nothing else under here but dust.” “Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?”

“No, I didn’t imagine it!” It must be afraid to go in there. “How do you get rid of a mouse?”

“Set a mouse trap is the only way I know,” offered my son.

I looked it up online. Use essential oils or cat urine. (Mice don’t like peppermint. I don’t like cat urine.) Use traps. (Mice are sneaky and avoid traps.), Block their entrance with steel wool. (I don’t know how they got in.) Remove the food source. (It is eating my bed.) Mice don’t like light.

So, my son set a mousetrap and I put a light under the bed. I wanted the men to take the mattress off the bed, but they declined. Honey’s hand hurts and my son has a bad shoulder. I think they were afraid of the mouse too.

We never had this problem when we had cats. “Do you know where we can get a cat?” asked Honey.

“Are you kidding me? The shelters are full of cats. Everyone is on social media wanting to rehome a cat.”

There was a reason I didn’t get another cat when mine passed away. Cats are trouble: food to buy, litter boxes to clean, scratched up furniture, cat hair everywhere, vet bills and then they die and break your heart.

“I think it might be easier to have a mouse than a cat.”

All I can think of now is buying a new mattress. They will deliver it and take away the old one.

“Here’s someone on social media giving away a California King mattress,” said Honey.

“No thanks!” I have one to give away myself… no extra charge for the mouse.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

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Going Bananas

Posted on May 23, 2025 by Sheila Moss

Occasionally I get a hankering for bananas. So, when honey was going to the grocery store the other day, I had them on the list. The trouble with letting honey buy bananas is he always overbuys. Regardless of the number of bananas I ask for, he somehow thinks that he cannot break a bunch in half and will buy the entire bunch. 

This time, as usual, he came home with enough bananas to last for a month. 

The trouble with bananas is they don’t last a month. They are highly perishable and seldom last even a week. There are tricks that supposedly make them last longer, like wrapping the ends in aluminum foil. It doesn’t help much. You can only eat so many bananas, so I always end up feeding the surplus to the garbage can.  

It was no surprise when after several days I ended up with bananas with brown spots on the verge of going bad. Sigh. But wait! I can make a banana pudding, I thought. I think I have everything I need, probably left over from the last time honey bought bananas. So, I got out a casserole dish and proceeded to assemble the ingredients.  

I used to be a purist and make my own pudding from scratch with real meringue for the top. However, that became too much trouble, and I became lazy. Now I think Jello Instant Pudding and Cool Whip work just fine. 

I peeled and sliced bananas, layered them with Nabisco Vanilla Wafers, poured on the pudding and topped it with Cool Whip. It was beautiful. I would put it in the refrigerator and when I needed a dessert, it would be ready. 

With the combination of ingredients and the ceramic casserole dish, it was a bit heavy, but I could manage. The refrigerator was full, and the only empty spot was on the bottom shelf. As I bent over to put it inside, something slipped. “Oh, no!” I tried to catch it and as I did, I lost my balance. The next thing I knew, I was laying on the kitchen floor and banana pudding was everywhere.  

I had fallen backwards and hit my head on the cabinet as I went down. I laid there for a while to make sure I was still alive. I felt my head to see if there was any blood. There wasn’t. I didn’t feel as if anything was broken this time. The older I get, the harder it seems to be to stay on my feet. I have been being super careful, but not careful enough apparently. 

About that time, honey walked in. “You fell? he asked as if it was not apparent. “Are you hurt?” 

“Help me up!”  

He got me up and even cleaned up the sticky mess made by the flight of the ill-fated banana pudding. “There is some left,” he said, peering in the bottom of dish where a small amount survived only because the dish did not fall upside down. He didn’t even tell me I should be more careful. I think he was only happy he didn’t have to call 911. So was I. 

So that’s the story of how I fell for banana pudding. Right now, I don’t care if I ever see another banana pudding. 

From now on I am going to be careful and try not to fall. I am, really, I am.

Copyright 2025 Sheila Moss

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