Daniel's gone.

My mom had put him in a sock to keep him warm, and had stuck a kitten bottle full of hot water nearby. He went happy and loved and warm.

Here's to ya', Danny. The best damn Mouse Owl ever.

Keep on fighting tiny crime, little guy. Just don't fall off the clouds.

Best way to get on a mouse's good side?

Oatmeal.

Lots of it.

Daniel is a very pleased goddamn mouse owl at the moment. :3

I was cleaning out Daniel's cage this morning and, wouldn't you know it, I got cocky.

Instead of wearing the thick, leather gardening glove that I usually use to clean, I went bare-handed to scrub out the bottom of the cage. Daniel skittered around, just out of range, so I figured I was safe. Ha.

He ain't called the "Goddamn Mouse-Owl" for nothing.

He lunged, bit, and I skeeked like a little girl. I also jerked my hand up with Daniel still firmly attached. He got smacked on the inside of the tank lid, which made him release and leave me to my bleeding finger.

I suppose I got the better end of the deal -- a tear on my index finger, about the size of a small papercut, or that of a white mouse's front teeth. He got a bruised nose and the experience of smacking into a window at a billion miles an hour. (And this was signifigantly less spectacular than the first time he bit me and he went flying six feet into the air...)

After making sure he was okay, and after putting tons of neosporin on my cut (germaphobe, doncha know), I felt bad enough to bribe him with food. He got a handfull of dry oatmeal, which he promptly ate.

I bought the kitties their Christmas present today, and let them have it early -- a bag of Royal Canin cat food. Mousie got addicted to the stuff when Squeeky was a kitten, but couldn't really eat it because it was, after all, kitten-sized foodbits. So I got a bag of regular-sized kibble. I think Mousie inhaled the plate I gave her.

I'm now torn between getting the newsboy hat (I finally decided that I could wear the newsboy hat daily, whereas a fedora would only be practical in the rain), or saving up my moneys for a beginner violin. Yes, let's all gape at the kiffies for a moment. Kiffies, who still haven't quite gotten Khan down to a science, wants to take up another instrument. Let's all stare at the dumb. Though, to be fair, I did play violin for two years in elementary, and I did enjoy it, though I had a habit of over-rosining the bow and forming a nice cloud of powder around me as I played. :3

I cleaned out Daniel's tank using my leet ninja skills. Actually, a leather workglove that he couldn't bite though, and that I held him against the tank with while I scrubbed his wheel off. He cried. Loudly. I wasn't hurting him, he was just pissed that he couldn't move. Damned mouse's cries are almost more pathetic than a kitten's. I eventually let him go and worked around him.

I'm going to go see Hissy tomorrow afternoon. I got her gift, though I didn't wrap it. It does have a bow. 'Selected Works of Edgar Alan Poe'. We'll see how she likes it. And I think we're going to be watching part of the Voyager marathon together. But I'm not staying for all of it that day. I did the all-day TNG thing at school and wound up catatonic on the common room couch.

Bob ate today and did an awesome food dance that involved many feet. Some spiders really get their bums into it. Bob likes tapping all of his toes, in sequence, against the same bit of dirt. It's hilarious. I would have stayed and watched, but I had to eat dinner, myself.

I realized today, as I loaded up IE and, as usual, was greeted with Alba's LJ icon (it's the first thing I see on the page), that I mentally had said, "Oh, look! A Q!" At which point, my mind went blank -- "Which Q? There are many, sir!" And then there was a scary and wrong mental image involving the Question being a part of the Q Continuum and THEY ALL WORE SANTA HATS. Now there's something that would give both Maxwell Lord AND Jean-Luc Picard aneurysms at the same time. :D