I haven’t seen or heard Mr. Mouse since his stunning d&eacutebut, but though he is out of sight, he isn’t out of mind. Despite being pre-caffeinated this morning, I immediately noticed that the loaf of bread I had unwisely left on the kitchen counter last night had been broken into and feasted on by none other than Mr. Mouse – unless it was one of his partners in crime, given the Never Just One rule. He must not have heard about the Atkins Diet.

I think I’m going to have to break down and get a trap. Maybe you Never Get Just One, though. Also, where do you put them and what do you put in them? I wonder if my mouse is like Nick’s and I can bait the traps with bread, though surely a mouse sophisticated enough to plague me would have more extravagant tastes, expecting croissants at least. I like Kathleen’s idea of filling the entry with steel wool, thus avoiding becoming yet another domestic murderer, but can’t find it.

Mice are much less adorable in real life than in Beatrix Potter stories. I don’t think I’ll ever read them quite the same way. On the other hand, I might find mine cuter if he were wearing a waistcoat and cravat.

Also, if I’m going to start killing four-legged creatures just for having the temerity of co-existing with me, I feel like even more of a hypocrite not eating them. No virtue there, I’m afraid. Next stop: fur coat.

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5 comments on “Mouse

  1. Kelly

    Awww … you could get a humane trap and let the little guy out in a field somewhere. Poor little guy.

    Mean Suzy!

  2. Jennifer

    I must admit I stick my head in the sand and let our four legged feline work for his supper. This often backfires as he does like you to praise him for a job well done…while his mouth is still full!

  3. Kathleen

    My father always used peanut butter in the inhumane killing traps. Seemed to work, I must say. Not finding the hole is NOT good. The problem is that I don’t really want to find the hole because I’m scared to death that it’s going to poke its cute little head through just as I’m peering into it and then there I am having a heart attack while it scampers away.

  4. Amber

    I used to be all about the well-being of the mice until my parents had an infestation and then, well, the aw-factor is considerably reduced when an entire fleet of mice are sharing your food and pooping in your couch. I’m a hyprocrit too.

    If you’re confident there isn’t an entire family hanging around, a humane trap just might do the trick and you can release the critter a very, very long way from your breadbox.

  5. Jar

    Oh no! I had forgotten about mice-in-the-house season! It should be approaching my wee apartment soon. As soon as it gets cold, those little creatures need to come inside. This summer I found a sweet puffy nest in a shoe I had stored in a hall closet. Here is my last year’s rant about the subject:

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