If you have read any of my previous postings on mice, mice, and more mice, you may have gotten the impression that I don't mind them. Seriously, I hate mice. They are just so….rodent-y. Filthy. Gag. It is one thing to have them in the work place, but at home…..nope. I was understandably VERY disturbed when I found mouse turd under my kitchen sink last week, having discovered that my packet of dishwasher gel packs was nibbled at the bottom.
"The dog got it", Mr. Ednurseasauras told me. "Two months ago". As if it could ever be just a single mouse.
But, I bought it. I don't do a lot of machine dish washing, probably only one load per week so it was possible that the packet had been nibbled months ago. I put on two pairs of rubber gloves (which I threw out) and spent a morning clearing up and organizing the assorted cleaning clutter, vacuumed, bleached and decontaminated the entire area. Then searched for further sign of the little f*ckers and cleaned every cabinet. Having had enough mini drama for the day, I washed my hair and puked.
There was no sign of additional rodents until yesterday when I FOUND MORE MOUSE TURD under the sink.
I have both a cat and a dog who have faithfully alerted me to the presence of mice in the past. They have each caught a couple, and have even collaborated with mouse hunting/ slaying in the past. The cat once left a mouse head on the kitchen floor to rebuke us for leaving her for the weekend, but the dog also impressive stats. There was, however, no alert the time.
"You guys have failed", I berated them. Neither had the good grace to look ashamed. The cat yawned, the dog licked herself. Rude.
"We need to set traps", I announced to Himself.
Mr. Ednursesauras discussed the merits of various kinds of mouse-killing apparatus which we have collected and deployed, but never caught a thing. We had some where they could wander in, but not out. And some that are pads the rodent-y little feet stick to. And of course the classic mouse trap-mouse traps, which are hazardous to human fingers. Letting mice go is the same as leaving our borders unsecured, they just get back in. Also, since our experience last spring with the beavers that resulted in the flooding of our property that we had just put on the market, I'm out for invasive species annihilation. My only rule is that I am not removing the carcass. Nope. Not looking at it. NOT touching it. Nope.
I do bees. Hornets. Yellow jackets. I don't mind snakes. I even had to clean up after a duck had gotten into our family lake house and died, and you can imagine the mess that made. I have a lifetime of experience with body fluids, both man and beast. I think I am entitled to draw the line at dead mice. Oh, and spiders. I won't do spiders.
I baited the trap with a dab of almond butter and a small piece of 9-grain cracker believing that I would, a usual, not catch a thing. I had the pest control service on speed dial and anticipated calling in the morning.
Two hours later I heard a rattling. Shocking.
Dog: 0, Cat: 0, Human: 1. Number of dead mice in the trap: 1
Mr. Ednurseasauras put on an old pair of work gloves and disposed of it. I suggested he put in on our nosey neighbor's mailbox, but he wisely declined.
"Well. That's that".
With the bait intact, the trap was returned to duty under the sink, Mr. Ednurseasuaras convinced that was the end of the problem. Forty minutes later, I alerted him that there was a companion dead mouse called to Final Accounting.
"What!? How do you know that? The dog hasn't moved".
I could hear it. Above the sound of the TV, my computer, and the air conditioner. Call me crazy.
"Wow, you picked good bait", Mr. Ednurseasauras commented.
"Why, what did you use last time you tried this?", I asked.
NOW the dog was interested.
Today I cleaned under the sink, vacuumed, bleached, and disposed of another pair of Playtex Living Gloves. Then washed my hair and puked again.
The dog has been at her post.
Tonight we hunt again…..