Sir Thomas of Argyle, Bane of Mice (8)

From THE OFFICIAL TRAVELOGUE OF SIR THOMAS CAT, ESQUIRE

Translated from the Meowish.
Copyright May 1983


This story is dedicated to my husband's Aunt Eleanor Campbell Taylor and Uncle Rumsey Taylor, Sr., of Princeton, Kentucky, USA, in whose home the enchantment of Inveraray is alive and well on this side of the Atlantic. May the rest of us who come along after be able to carry on and never lose that enchantment forever.

[Part 8]

"We'll have to put him to sleep, you know," Dr. Woolsey said, as he appeared in the doorway again. At that the Duke of Argyle sank into a chair under the window ledge for support, trying to make himself think of the lovely view of the snow. Dr. Woolsey had to come to the Duke's aid, and signalled to his veterinary assistant to wait a moment.

"I don't mean forever, Colin," Dr. Woolsey said quickly. "I mean we'll have to put him to sleep for a couple of hours, or he'll claw us to bits during the surgery. This looks like a weasel bite." 

"You mean it wasn't a cat fight?" asked the Duke, reviving a bit with curiosity himself.

"No," said Dr. Woolsey, "the teeth marks are definitely weasel, though probably not rabid. Still, we have to find the weasel if we can."

The Duke went immediately to get Chief Maynard, and the two of them spent the next hour combing watchtower hill for weasel tracks, which they thought they found a few times. They decided to check inside the watchtower, too. The door was extremely heavy, but rodents through the many years had gnawed out several entrances of their own. For that reason the Duke had never replaced a large window pane once broken out of a side window. It was Sir George's and Sir Thomas's surprise entrance for rodents under them on the floor, and the two cats often exited the same way, carrying a bit of lunch with them.