If you build a better mousetrap, you will catch better mice. ~George Gobel
This is ironic, I keep writing about mice, yet my affection for them them is very much less than favorable. In fact, mice in my opinion reside in the revolting and antipathy category. Regardless, I need to sing my praises of another successful trophy over my mantel, even though it's not quite what you'd expect. At least I was completely thrown off of my game.
I've said it before and I believe it to be true, the neighborhood mice are picking on me! I don't get it, recently I haven't had much food in the house. Also my little corner of the world is very clean, I mean bleach clean. My house is kept junk and clutter free, I'm pretty much a minimalistic. So let's take inventory. I have no food, a very clean clutter free house and I have a cat. Why would any mouse decide to take refuse in my personal domain? The only thing I know to be reality is that I am like my parents and I tend to come and go with the door hanging wide open. Ok, note to self, learn to keep the door shut, especially after this last episode.
This mouse was haunting me for over a month. What is really strange, is that I never saw the mouse before or after Storm had it cornered under my dresser. Coincidentally, that was the same time one of my mouse sticky pads went missing, still never found it! A few weeks ago I kept finding what I thought were mouse droppings in the strangest places. On the backs of my couch and chair, my window seal in the living-room, and even on my window seal behind my bed. I don't even want to discuss the few that were on my sheets. Ever since that incidence, it became my nightly ritual to change my sheets and check everywhere before I laid my head down. It didn't even look like the mouse was even in my kitchen. What is wrong with this mouse?
One weekend after being away, I came back to a ton of crap, literally crap on my furniture and window seals. Keep in mind Storm was with me so it wasn't like she was sleeping on the job. I couldn't take it! This meant war. By this time, I think I had already used up an entire can of Lysol disinfecting everything. What am I to do? My dilemma resided in the fact that I couldn't set out certain traps, for fear Storm would get hurt. So late, that Sunday night I went to the store and purchased about a dozen of those hockey puck shaped plastic traps that the mouse is suppose to enter and die. My logic, I'll have those set out everywhere all the time and when Storm and I go to my parents, I'll set the deadly traps. My kitchen looked like a mind field, but I didn't care. I was at war and I was determined to win.
Would you believe I checked those traps a couple of times a day and nothing! The only thing those traps were doing was entertaining my cat! Apparently she thought I bought her toys to push around the kitchen.
On a side note, if I did believed in reincarnation, I know I can't come back as a cat. I am such a horrible mouse catcher!
Now the ultimate test, go away for a few days and leaving out those small sticky pads. My plan was to leave for the weekend, actually from Thursday to Sunday, since I took off work on Friday to go mentor hunting Deer Hunter, Kyle's First Deer, with Kyle and dad. Would you believe, when I got back to my house there was more evidence of the varmint, but no physical body? I can't even describe in words how ticked off I was! Poor Kyle, he was trying to help me disinfect my house and clean up. He even found one of the sticky pads with hair on it that was partially under the refrigerator. Now at least, I know I was not loosing my mind, there really was something in the house. I guess it was a bionic mouse to get out of a trap like that!
What really had me seeing red was my new discovery. As I opened my refrigerator door, I noticed the light didn't come on and a wall of warm air hit me. What? The stupid beast destroyed my refrigerator? It did! This was it, I was at my whits end! First of all I hate mice with such a passion, and now one was completely terrorizing me and destroying major appliances? In my own house? Not right!
Read the entire story Of Mice and Me ... Part
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