And he lives in my kitchen. There's nothing quite like hearing that little scurry across the foil on the brownie pan on the counter, the knocking behind the oven. This mouse is a portly klutz; a rodent Chris Farley.
Today I was washing dishes and I turn around and there he is, sitting there looking at me like, "Wow. What is that and why is it in my kitchen?" I'm not normally frightened by things but a small squeal escaped me, which in my present health sent me into a coughing fit. All I could do was splash dishwater at it. It sauntered- not ran, not scurried, not flew- but slowly meandered back behind the oven, probably because the soggy little blighter knew I was incapacitated and couldn't hurt him.
I've set out glue traps, which I find the next morning with footprints that mock me. We finally broke out the Green Pellets of Death, which have not as yet shown any effect. I think he's hooked on them and is waiting for his next fix. I have visions of becoming the mouse world equivalent of a back alley, with this rodent instructing his little junkies, "Just make some noise in the walls, and leave some poop under the sink. She'll put out the stuff."
I thought about getting a cat, but with my luck he'd just want a cut of the pellet profits.
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7 comments:
How is it that you manage to get the one rodent in the world not afraid of humans and immune to rat poison?
Talent, baby. Sheer talent.
Know anyone with a couple of ferrets to lend? Let them nose around your house for a while and you won't have any more rodent problems.
And don't worry, he'll croak some day (like right before Christmas). And just about the time you start saying to yourself, "You know, I haven't seen Joe Mouse in a while" that smell will start drifting in from some unpinnable spot behind the walls, and all your guests will be wrinkling their noses when you have them over for that giant holiday bash I just KNOW you're planning but as yet haven't received my invitation to and they'll all make excuses to leave early and won't eat all that food you labored over for hours because they're worried that the stink is coming from the buffet and when the door slams on the last of them you and your family will be left standing there, staring at each other, smelling dead mouse and wondering why, why God, why???
But on the upside, you'll have lots of leftovers for the next mouse who moves in!
PS: Seriously, though, rake any and all leaves away from your foundation and check carefully for cracks--seal all you find; this is the time of year when all rodents want "in"!!
PPS: I'll shut up now.
Oh, funny.
We don't have mice in Alaska, only voles and I've never seen one in a house.
Beth, no fair writing a funnier comment than the post. But seriously, we all need to plan going to next year's Blogher or something.
No mice in Alaska? At all? *checking dictionary for 'vole'*
email me your address and I'll send you a bag of cat hair. That might slow his little rodent butt down for a day or two.
you DON'T want any of em close by, not with the hanta virus possible :(
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