There's a mouse in my house! Well, there too.

Okay, so I am at work minding my own business when my dog perks his ears up and dives towards the table I'm working at and continues to shove his head under it sniffing and going crazy, giving new meaning to the phrase "doggone crazy". Get it? Chortle. Snort.

Yes, I took a picture of his butt in the air. Who wouldn't?

So, back to the story... I bravely got on my knees to peer under the table and realized at that moment I've got some serious cleaning to do under there. Really, I saw a blur of movement and knew right away it was a doggone mouse. My experiences in life have given me a fine tuned instinct and wisdom no school room could teach. I done knew it was gonna be a mouse!
The mouse ran, the dog ran after the mouse, and I ran after the dog and the mouse who much to my dismay, ran into my office and disappeared into thin air. This is where it gets really gross. This is what I found.

Insert a big *sigh* right here. 

Now, mice are cute so I always pause for a moment of reflection **pause** before I decide which method I am going to use to destroy them. Is there really a good way? I don't think so.

Sincerely yours, Peggy, Cody the dog,

and the mouse. Squeak!