Of mice and Bob

OK, so I killed some mice. I didn’t want to have to do it. But they were running all over the house. And tons of little mice are faster and sneakier than two big dogs. Don’t believe it? Come onna my house.

I have nothing against mice. I’m sure rodents play an important part in preserving our wondrous ecological streams and dreams and vibrations and whatnot, but if mice, and their cousins the rats, actually do do anything good for you or me, or ever have done so, I don’t want to hear about it.

Come on, man, when, if ever, should we forgive fleas for bringing the Plague to Europe? And what does it mean to think about forgiving a flea?

I mean, there comes a time, man, when you’re trying to figure out a chord change for the bridge, and a mouse runs over your foot on the soft pedal while you wondering whether a sharp 9 or a flat 9 would be better here.

Well? Wouldn’t that upset you?

That’s unacceptable, man.

My point perzackly is that they ain’t no setch thing as a one mouse, and here is the proof:

if mammalian instincts, powers of observation, basic math, and ability to count on hands and toes is good enough, then I had a million mice or more runnin’ allover my house. I ain’t lyin’.

Has I made myself clear? 

Or what?

Ain’t no such thing as a one mouse.

Not ‘round here, anyway. Not in my house.

Hmpf. As if. Even.

Moving right along, many readers have asked …

Dear Ask Bob:

I am afraid I have mice in my hice house. 

Here I am in the attached photo, preparing for bed, bending over to fluff up a pillow, guarded over by my large Neapolitan Mastiffs, Napoleon and Cleopatra, while my husband was, as usual, on the road. What do you think I should I do? About the mice, I mean?

Your avid listener,

Venusia

Dear Venusia:

This is a joke, right?

Your Friend,

Bob

Dear Ask Bob:

How dare you make fun of one of our country’s finest writers, John Steinbeck?

Snarli Sturlsum

Dear Snarli:

What the hell are you talking about?

Your Friend,

Bob

Dear Ask Bob:

You know what the heck I am talking about, Bob: To dare to plagiarize a title by Nobel Laureate John Steinbeck. How dare you?!

Snarli

Dear Snarli:

Steinbeck never wrote a book called 'Of Mice and Bob.'

Plus which, you can’t copyright a title, so you can’t plagiarize one either.

Your Friend,

Bob

Dear Ask Bob:

You haven’t heard the last of me, my friend.

Snarli

Dear Snarli:

O yes I have.

Your Friend,

Bob

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