The story of a very resilient mouse

I don't like rodents, at all. No type, no matter how cute people say they are. My family doesn't seem to mind them. A few, actually really like them and would love to have them as pets. For the last few days, I have been hearing noises. Behind the walls, oven and refridgerator that made me think that maybe we had one amongst us. Friday night I was sitting watching a movie on the couch, George next to me. I saw a blur of brown whiz by me. I immediately got up on the coffee table and yelled for George to get the thing. And boy did he try. He spent twenty or so minutes chasing the thing around the downstairs. Imagine a 6'4 man trying to catch a tiny little mouse. At one point, it was crawling up his leg. I was laughing so hard, I was crying. When he finally got him, he took him upstairs to show Gabrielle. Luckily, Samuel was asleep. Once in Gab's room, he jumped from George's hands, and was free. The door was shut and we put a pillow to block the mouse from getting out. We tried to get the mouse out from under the bed for about 30 minutes. Well, I was on the bed, while George and Gab tried to trap the thing.
He would run out from under the bed and then run back under. At one point he somehow got under the blocked door and ran in Gab's bathroom. George ran in there and I shut the door and put a towel under the door. I, of course, was on the outside. About five minutes later, we hear the toilet flush. George walked out, beads of sweat on his brow. He was not going to be defeated by a mouse! I could not believe he flushed the mouse! I know you think the story is over....

Saturday morning, we are coming in the door from Samuel's soccer game. Gab runs downstairs and tells us that the mouse is swimming in her toilet. Gabrielle had been using her toilet all last night and morning, with no mouse. Somehow the mouse had lived through maybe five flushings. Everyone runs upstairs to see the poor mouse. Now this was the first Samuel had heard of the mouse so he was extremely excited to see it. The mouse had it's little face outside of the water and it was trying to swim. You could tell that he was almost dead. I, hater of all rodents, even felt a bit bad for the guy. George did what his first instinct told him to, flush him again. He did not think of what this would do to our son, lover of all things alive. Samuel immediately burst into tears, his heart broken.
Daddy killed my mouse. He was going to be my pet. On and on it went. The worst of it lasted about 30 minutes. He's still mad at the murderer of the mouse. He probably brings it up at least once an hour and I can tell that he is holding it against George.

Well, it has been over twenty-four hours, and no sign of the mouse. So I guess he's gone for good. I wonder what his journey down the toilet was like?