In the festive spirit of melodrama, please meet Leroy’s Christmas mouse (of doom). I think we’ll call him Dwight.

Dwight ended up under the tree because I took my momma shopping to the local feed store/farm mart where I buy Sherman’s fancy kibble and non-fancy bully sticks. We walked up and down the aisles, while momma looked for a little Christmas treat for her grandmammals. For Leroy, she considered honeysuckle socks, frogs filled with catnip, and rainbow feathers on sticks. When she found Dwight, she reached forward to comment on his cuteness.

Suddenly, Dwight leapt into action, and he did this:

Immediately after this frightful display, Momma exclaimed that she simply had to give this mouse of doom to Leroy for Christmas.

Clearly, Dwight is not a mouse, but rather a dangerous being of a superior species. While his front legs lack bones and he is completely devoid of any other limbs, this little guy is a deadly warrior. Don’t be lulled into a false and fatal sense of security by his wobbly movements and his soft blue fur. One wrong move, and we’re all done, my friends. Leroy has discovered that Dwight morphs into a rodent warrior when gently swatted. I’m convinced they plan to take me out in my sleep one night soon. Leroy isn’t smart enough to look after himself, and he can’t even open his own kibble bin (luckily) so I figure Dwight is using the kitty to activate his “destroy” mode and then will abandon the cat in his bid to take over the world. Poor Leroy; he makes such critical mistakes in choosing friends.

What you can’t experience from the photograph alone is the sound Dwight makes when his eyes light up menacingly. It’s a squeak/chirp/ping sound that’s funneled directly from the dumpster behind a greasy spoon in the darkest corner of the bowels of the underworld. Hell mouse indeed.

Leroy and Dwight were up most of last night, plotting my demise and perhaps a means to open the cans of salmon and tuna in the cupboard. While I’m sure they think I’m blind to their maniacal plot, I’m on to them.

Thanks momma. I’ll miss you when it’s curtains for me.

copyright 2011: http://bluespeckledpup.com