Wednesday, December 05, 2007

A Small Tail ...

Just about a year ago, I wrote this mouse post.

Tonight, I write another.

Last night, I went downstairs to empty the dehumidifier and spied what looked like a tail in my mouse trap. I don't have the usual mouse trap. I have a black box – kind of like a roach motel, but for a mouse, a mouse motel. Normally, a normal-sized mouse can be seen sticking out of the trap, but the last night's mouse was more wee. The tail was inside the box. Ew, ew, ew.

I was about to go to bed and I had no desire to deal with a dead mouse moments before my slumber, no desire to tote a mouse corpse outside, in the snow, to the garage. So I left Wee Mouse in the trap and went to bed.

This morning, though, I knew I had to face the mouse music.

I gotta tell you, even though I feel like a grown-up when I carry out my own mouse disposal, I would much rather, um, not. Would much rather not carry out my own mouse disposal, would much rather not feel like a grown-up, frankly, if that's the trade off for not having to hear the soft "thud!" of a dead mouse hitting the trash.

I've checked the trap throughout the day and so far, no mouse. In the past, my mouse quarries have happened swiftly. Mice, it seems, are unable to resist the heady aroma of rancid peanut butter. So with any luck, Wee Mouse was a one-off.

It's cold outside. Cold and snowy. My house is warm. Warm and inviting. A haven. But only for the invited. All others are subject to getting smooshed by a Kleenex. Or worse.

It's not that I like killing mice. If they'd just stay outside, we could peacefully coexist. I saw Ratatouille and I think Remy is cute as a bug. But if a rat showed up in my house, I wouldn't invite it to cook with me.


Blogger Squirrel said...

it's so cold outside--can I move into your attic?

9:17 AM  

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