Mousecapades – Part One
When it comes to rodents, I don’t have a heart. I know some of you catch and release, but quite frankly, the only way I want to see a mouse is dead.
Yes, I am evil. Yes, I can be a little more humane. Yes, I can see my need to be good to the mouse.
But I want the little sucker dead!
And can I speak to trap manufacturer’s for a quick second?
Glue is for school projects and broken glasses, NOT for rat traps.
I hate to admit this. It’s not for the faint of heart, bleeding of heart, and definitely not for the ears of an animal rights activist. Though Cats would probably applaud.
Consider yourself warned.
I once caught a mouse in a glue trap. I pulled up a chair and watched its long tail struggle. What do you do with a live mouse stuck on a pad of glue?
I definitely wasn’t touching the trap while he was alive. The thought of letting him struggle for another eight hours until FringeMan returned made me a little weak in the knees. As far as my limited experience with rodents could tell, there was only one thing to do – Kill the Varmint!
My husband didn’t marry an ax murderer and killing a mouse is a little different from killing a spider. I have my limitations. I won’t wear a shoe with mouse guts splattered on it! I had no idea how to kill this mouse.
A hammer? Too Ted Bundy.
A knife? Too Jack the Ripper.
Suffocation? Not with my pillow!
The shotgun? Too Tim the Tool Man Taylor
I settled on Windex.
Shame welled up and flowed through my fingers as I typed W I N D E X. I’m not proud, but please understand, I couldn’t sit and watch it suffer. I may not have a bleeding heart, but it still beats. There should be an extra warning label on bottles of glass cleaner – CAN BE HARMFUL TO RATS, MICE, & OTHER SMALL RODENTS.
You see why I am against glue, don’t you?
We didn’t use glue this time. We used an honest-to-goodness, old-fashioned, break-their-neck trap. FringeMan filled it with peanut butter and set it next to the mouse freeway, running directly behind my trash can and under my kitchen sink.
For three days I waited for the ominous CLICK. Nothing.
This afternoon, I was standing at the counter doing something important like reading a blog when I heard a scratching sound. At first, I figured it was the kids raking their pencil across a page, but I think I remembered, We Have A Mouse! Turning quietly I spun on my heel and caught the little mighty mouse eating the peanut butter. On the trap. No click. No snap. No broken neck.
I did what any self-respecting blogger would do, I turned in search of my camera. So FringeMan will know I’m telling the truth about the roving rat, I took a picture. Sadly it came out a little dark. The lighting isn’t so good under my counter, behind the trash, but that mouse just ignored me. Imagine! Now I’m not only skeeved because I have a mouse, but I’m getting downright angry.
He’s going to push me to use glue!
It’s not bad enough that we are basically giving our house guest free high-protein meals (he’s not allergic to peanuts thank God), but then I find out my daughter has been feeding him. She leaves him Cheerios. Sure enough two little O’s sit next to my front door welcoming every rodent on the block.
We are hospitable that way.