2005 Journal: 12.14.05
Crazy Quilt
12.14.2005
 
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All creative life, emotional life, spiritual life, sexual life, relational life, moves in cycles of darkness and light, loss and return..
~Clarissa Pinkola Estes
 

Mouse Tale

Take it from me, there is no half assed solution to a house-mouse problem.

I had a mouse in my kitchen last year. We tried every humane way of trapping the mouse, but it would not take the bait for the Hav-a-Heart cage. We tried stuffing the holes with steel wool, to no effect.

I stored every possible item which could be mouse food in tin or glass containers up high where the mouse had no access.

We had a cat, but even so, she was just too old and she couldn't hear well enough anymore to detect the mouse presence. Thus the mouse carried on undeterred. It freely wandered around the kitchen nibbling crispy bits from inside the stove, helping itself to stray cracker and bread crumbs.

We even found evidence in the form of mouse poop that indicated it had been picnicking from the cat food bowl.

So we were even more careful never to leave tempting food morsels out. We meticulously cleaned the counters. We ran the oven cleaning setting on the stove. We moved the cat bowl into the living room hoping the mouse wouldn't be able to find it and would just give up and leave. About three weeks later, we heard scritch, scritch, scrtiching under the desk. The mouse had moved into the living room.

We tried to pretend that he would just go away, because we really wanted to avoid the traps. But the quantities of mouse poop dramatically increased, and with the sightings of several mice casually strolling about, we realized that the mouse had taken a spouse, and one mouse had become mousies.

There was just no more ignoring. Alas, there was nothing left to do but go on an all out killing spree. We purchased traps and baited them.

One by one, they came and ate the peanut butter. Loud snaps alerted us to mouse carcasses. We used the fancy new plastic traps and because they at least did not require any touching of the mice in order to release their little dead carcasses. Of course, there was the one time when the mouse was not actually dead. On releasing it, it fell into the garbage can and as I screeched the girlie, mousie scream, it scurried right out in front of me only to go hide and die somewhere else.

FIFTEEN mice later, we thought we had finally solved the problem.

But, no! Two days later the big fat mouse king was seen casually ambling along the ledge above the sink and running down to hide in the stove. Traps were placed repeatedly, and he just ate the peanut butter off the release mechanisms over and over again. He was a clever mouse.

Sadly, in the end we had no choice but to buy the poison and put it in the hole behind the kitchen cabinet. I hated to do it, but I had already become a serial killer and there was just no turning back. They died horrible deaths I'm sure, but that was the only certain solution to the mouse problem.

Now the mice are finally all gone. And we have a new younger cat should any return.

The only lesson I learned. Don't hesitate. Buy traps. Kill them. Be mouse free.

 

 

 

 

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