I was awaken last night from a shitty sleep (thanks to my cold but despite my intake of Gravol) to the familiar sounds of Oliver moaning and growling. Those two distinct noises only mean one thing to me, he's caught himself a mouse. And typical of Oliver and his mouse catching style, he has brought the mouse up to the invade the sanctity of my bedroom. When I opened one eye to peak out at him, I could see him in a face off with Shakespeare and Nika. He clearly didn't want to share his winnings with them. Eric heard the noises at the same time (thank goodness) and got up to investigate. He assured me that Oliver had, in his possession, one mouse, and he was pretty sure it was already dead (I, knowing Oliver and his penchant for playing with these mice for hours, didn't believe this diagnosis). Turns out I was right. Oliver took off with the mouse once Eric got close to him. He sought shelter in Gage's room and placed the rodent in a pile of Gage's dirty clothes (maybe this will be enough incentive to put his dirty clothes in his hamper in his closet from now on). When Eric approached him, he picked the mouse up and tried to bail again, but Eric has ninja-like reflexes. Eric took the hunter and the prey outside to the front stoop and proceeded to shake the shit out of Oliver until he dropped the mouse.
So while Oliver was disappointed and upset with Eric, I can easily tell you this act of heroism has secured him a place in my heart and home. *heart*
Not my kitty.