Does everyone spend Sunday morning on their hands and knees scrambling around the kitchen floor? Probably not, but breakfast at the B akke house took such a turn when I noticed Snoopy - our cat - take an unusual interest in the kitchen corner. Then - I spied a tiny nose poke out from behind the kitchen tansu (Japanese cabinet).
"Snoopy, did you bring a mouse in the house?"
She didn't answer just raced to the other side of the cabinet where our other cat Tigger joined the chase. Of course, I joined the cats, hoping to corral it before the tiny shrew found an inaccessible hiding place. That meant crawling on hands & knees - never mind the fact that it was a one-handed crawl as my left hand is still in a brace.
Hannah screamed, "It's a mouse!" laughed and texted the scenario to her friend.
"I need a plastic container," I managed to say as Chris watched, not sure what to say or do, at this hilarious turn of events. He headed for the drawer filled with containers.
"Will this do?"
"Yes!" I somehow managed, as I pulled recycling bags from under the kitchen desk - for Mr. Mousey Shrew had made an evading run from behind the cabinet to overflowing recycling center. Chris joined the chase - between us both we captured the poor little critter - who had lost part of his tail to the great cat hunters. There he squirmed, captured in plastic. His tiny heart beating like hummingbird wings. Chris carried him to the side yard and released the prisoner, who scurried away sadder and we hope wiser for his brief trial.
Sometimes I feel like that little critter, chased by cats and giants, encapsulated in the plastic of fear, I can see all around but not remember where to turn, to run. I need to look beyond the visible, to the hands of grace, which reach down and release me from the chase and fear's imprisonment.
Monday, December 21, 2009
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