My new cat proving a real mouser

I said I wasn't going to replace my cat when she got old and died.

That was seven months ago, just before Kitten Britches went to cat heaven.

After a few months, however, my affirmation developed some serious cracks when I noticed a cute orange-striped kitten at Haven Humane Society.

It's difficult enough to watch any of these shelter animals needing homes languish unadopted, but now and then a special one captures your heart. That's how I ended up with Sophie; a mini-Australian cattle dog mix dumped with her litter mates in a cardboard box next the Sacrament River.

Who knows where most of the shelter animals originate, but their plight definitely begins on the part of pet owners who fail to spay and neuter the pets they own.

Kirby went home with one of the shelter office employees who fostered him for a couple of weeks - until he was up to weight and could be neutered.

Seeing this little guy, so cute and cuddly and mischievous was too much for me as he reminded me of Brutus, my big orange male cat that lived to age 14.

I always said there is something special about those orange cats. It's a mystery, but every one seems to have a unique personality apart from cats in general.

I adopted Kirby in November which wasn't good timing as Christmas was just around the corner.

Amazingly the Christmas tree survived Kirby's antics. But it was mainly because he spent the nights in his crate with bed and litter box. During the day he had a bedroom all to himself.

Not quite half grown, this feline is growing leaps and bounds.

Whoever said dogs and cats don't get along didn't know much about a specific orange cat. It was love at first sight for Kirby when he and Sophie were introduced.

Sophie had some reservation when the cat swiped at her face with his paw upon the first meeting.

A few weeks together and they are best buds, romping on the living room carpet, pouncing on each other from perched positions behind furniture.

The other day we discovered a mouse had somehow gotten into the house. This tiny little mouse has been taunting us, perched on a counter as if it is invincible.

While Kirby was playing with a mouse toy, he spotted the live version staring him down safely from a vantage point high on the kitchen counter.

Kirby lunged at the counter and the mouse scurried to the place near the refrigerator where a pipe coming through the wall had just enough space around it to allow the mouse to disappear.

Okay, the mouse has to go. Because Kirby is in bed at night and can't reach the counter during the daytime, times when the mouse is probably scurrying around the house, I have set plan A in motion - mouse traps set in strategic places baited with peanut butter.

Hmmm, let's see, if the mouse opts to leave the safety of the counter during the daytime, it would be its worse mistake as Kirby is quick.

I watched this cat lay in wait for the mouse to reappear from the crack around the pipe and he has the tenacity of a real mouser.

His patience is measured by the quick, short movement of that long tail as he crouches in position waiting, waiting and waiting for the right moment to pounce and conquer.

The mouse is destined to succumb to Kirby the cat or Woody the mousetrap.

The waiting game is on after placing the mousetrap high enough so the cat won't get his nose smacked.

About 12:30 a.m., I suddenly heard a loud SNAP!

It woke me instantly as it echoed through the house.

I sat straight up in bed knowing full well that the noise simply meant one dead mouse. I walked to the stove to find the trap and critter totally motionless. I picked up the trap, mouse and all, in a piece of paper towel and disposed of it - no taps, no ceremony, no fond farewells.

Maybe now I could get a good rest-of-the night's sleep.

I think I'll let Kirby spend a night or two in the barn where he can have his heyday with rodents.