Mouse Poo

March 4, 2009 by  
Filed under Bush Poetry, Mouse Poo

Introduction

There is nothing more frustrating to a wife than finding mouse pooh in her house and it usually results in a full scale, fully equipped expedition to seek and destroy the rodent. Women should understand that they may be initiating a chain of events over which they have no control.

Bush poetry by Andrew Hull

All night a noisy little mouse was keeping me awake,
With that irritating little squeaky scratchy noise they make.
And then at breakfast time there was mouse pooh on my flakes,
And at lunchtime there was mouse pooh on my chocolate cake.

“I’ll snare him”, I decided, “when he finishes his nap”.
And I used a bit of cheese with a drop of mango sap.
Then I set the apparatus just outside his little flap,
But he just ate the cheese, and left mouse pooh on the trap !

My best friend had a cat, which was supposed to be well bred,
“I’ll mind him while you go away”, I innocently said.
Now I hate cats, but I promised that I’d keep him brushed and fed.
But when I woke in the morning there was cat pooh on my bed !

He had squatted there beside me while I was in repose, 
I decided I must kill him with a string of violent blows.
But as I snuck up on him, I felt cat pooh ‘tween my toes.
I lunged at him and missed, hit the chair and broke my nose.

I whispered “that’s the last time that this cat has tempted fate”.
But the only way to trap him would require juicy bait.
So I got a tin of sardines and put them on a plate,
Then sat it in the laundry, and found a spot to wait.

Then I saw the windows, the cat had torn up all my screens,
I raced back to get dressed and there was cat pooh on my jeans.
The mouse was still alive, ‘cause there was mouse pooh at the scene,
And on returning to the laundry, the cat had eaten the sardines !

I could see I’d need assistance or I would surely lose.
My house was torn to pieces and was covered in cat poohs,
My nose was surely broken and my face a purple bruise,
And when I left I was not shocked to find cat pooh in my shoes.

So I got a dog. A Doberman. A very vicious breed.
He’d been locked up for weeks and he hadn’t had a feed,
He was guaranteed to catch a cat if ever he was freed.
So I put him in the yard and I let him off his lead.

I went to sleep and left the dog to do what he must do,
And slept soundly in the knowledge that the cat would soon be through.
When I awoke and went outside to greet the day anew, 
I stepped off the porch and straight into a steaming pile of pooh !

The way the dog had left the yard was an absolute disgrace.
There were little piles of pooh scattered all over the place.
I yelled obscenities at the dog and rapidly gave chase.
While my neighbor looked across the fence, a frown apon his face.

“Don’t you hurt that dog” he said “Or I will make you pay”.
“I know you plan to keep him locked up in the yard all day”
“I’ve placed a call to an officer from the R.S.P.C.A”,
“And when they see your place I’m sure that they’ll put you away.”

“Oh No”, I said, “there’s no need for anything like that”
“I was only trying to catch him for his morning pat.
I love my little puppy dog, and my pussycat,
I even have a little mouse that sleeps apon my mat.”

My neighbor didn’t trust me as I saw him take my name.
I was furious with the animals that I would get the blame.
Then after a few drinks I thought ‘to beat them at their game’,
‘These animals behavior must be rewarded with the same.

A drunken madness took me in the darkness of that room.
And I formed a twisted plan as I drank all afternoon.
“I must fight fire with fire” I vowed apon the rising moon.
Then I ate a block of chocolate and a family bag of prunes.

In the morning I got the animals food and set it on a plate,
Then I took my trousers down and squatted on their food to wait.
I gave them all a call and then began to defecate.
Then the officer from the R.S.P.C.A walked through the gate.

The magistrate was a cat lover, with a sense of humour too,
He gave me a council uniform and a brand new job to do.
I now work with the large animals at the local zoo.
I don’t have to feed or wash them, I just clean up their pooh.

© Andrew Hull

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