Despite All, I Am Still Dashing

I will go out on a limb and venture to say that you did not do this yesterday. If I am wrong, let me know.

I was at our back fence when I saw our cat Mario lurking by the composter. A few minutes later, I saw him streaking madly for the garage. With a mouse in his mouth. This meant only one thing. A half eaten rodent was soon to be deposited on the garage floor and I would be on my knees cleaning up blood and guts, a job I do not have a lot of good feelings for.

I took off running. I surprised myself and discovered that I am able to outrun a cat with a mouse in its mouth.

I got to the garage door and slammed it shut, then noticed the window was open too. I quickly closed it.

Mario was left frustrated outside with his bounty which he was bringing to me as a gift.

It’s funny. I hobble down the street every day and tell the neighbours (who also run away), how much my hip hurts. However, my true Olympian spirit showed in my high-speed, mouse-deflecting sprint to the garage, and my bones were not a factor.

The score so far is Mario, 35, Jim, 1, but at least I’m on the board.

©2014 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.