The Mouse

I'm not going to say I grew up a sheltered life, but I was lucky enough to almost always live in a new house. Not just 'new to us', but actually 'new', as in, we watched it get built. I didn't know about living in old houses, and what comes with living in an old house, until I moved in with Eric into his 100+yr-old house.

Recently, I discovered a true negative to the old house, with the creaks and slanted floors and drafty windows... the ability for vermin to get in (especially when it gets cold outside). A mouse. I've never seen a 'wild' mouse before. At first, I didn't know what I saw. It was a blur across the floor, and I jumped. Eric shrugged it of and said, "yeah.. I thought I saw a mouse earlier, too. If you think you saw one, then you did." About this time, he darted again, this time a little too close to comfort for me (still halfway across the room, mind you). I screamed this time, and curled up into a frantic ball. Eric just laughed at me. But he finally humored me and got up to see if the mouse was hiding behind a foot stool, and thought it was gone. I was still on edge. Then I saw it again, and by this time, I'm freaking out so much I'm near tears! And I have no idea why it freaked me out so much - I just never had a mouse in my house. I felt so... violated!

We didn't see him again and, in fact, Eric was convinced it left the house, since it warmed up a bit, again. Then, I came home to find what I thought was to be a perfectly fine loaf of bread in the garbage. I just assumed it was Eric being Eric about bread - he throws it out when it's just close to the expiration date. But then he told me he thought a mouse got to it. Uh oh.

Now, we are not dirty people, by any means. We have some clutter, just like anyone, but I'm OCD about dishes in the sink or leaving any plates around, let alone food out. So this really kind of got to me... where did this little sh*t come from and why our house??

Other than putting EVERYTHING in the fridge or high cabinet, we didn't change anything about our routine, at this point. We had no idea where he was 'living' and where to try to trap him. Then last weekend, I was cooking standing at the sink, washing a plate off, when I swear I felt something scurry past my toes along the kickboard. I looked and saw nothing... but was now on high alert. About 10 minutes later, I see him scurry under the fridge. And I saw him, in full mouse view, this time. For some reason, truly seeing him and just not a blur made me ready to mouse hunt... I was going to get the sucker. Or so I hoped/thought. I texted Eric and told him to bring home traps. In the meantime, I stood guard so he couldn't get out from under the fridge.

Oh, and he tried! He's poke his little head out, and I'd jump at him, knowing it would only scare him and there was no way I'd catch him by doing that. We played this game until Eric got home. He threw out a couple of the sticky traps on either side of the fridge and we left the kitchen.

Alas, no mouse. He was too smart for that. So we positioned the two traps a little better around the kitchen in hopes he's get stuck overnight. But again, no mouse. So I looked up some mouse traps online and found a simple and seemingly effective (and humane) trap. Put some peanut butter on the inside, bottom of a small glass, balance it upside down, with one side of the rim on a nickel, and let the heavy, easily off-balance glass do the work. I set up my trap (even with the sticky traps still out) and waited. I thought surely he's knock this over within a day.

A few days later (Friday), and the glass was unmoved. But wait... I looked a little closer. The peanut butter was GONE and the nickel was rotated 90 degrees so it couldn't roll with the weight of the glass. WTH?? Did this mouse take physics??

Yesterday, I was in the living room and heard a noise in my fish tank cabinet. I knew it had to be the mouse. Either that, or one of the fish got out. So I briskly opened the cabinet... but didn't see him. I shuffled stuff around, but still no mouse. An hour or so later, I heard the noise again. I ran over and opened the door, and there it was, just sitting in the cabinet. It darted out the back (there's no back on these cabinets) and I ran to get one of the sticky traps. but again, no luck. So I proceeds to investigate what he had found in the fish tank cabinet. Wow... the little sh*t found old fish food I had long forgotten about. So that was quickly removed and put in the trash. Now he had nothing to go after there.

Then I heard a noise behind the couch... where I was sitting. This freaked me out a bit because I couldn't see it... hopefully, it was just the same mouse. And just a mouse. So I cautiously looked over the back to see a bag of candy that had fallen back there some how... it definitely matched the crinkling sound.

I should mention that every time I removed a food source, I'd hear the mouse, again, in the same vicinity, squeaking up a storm. I think I was pissing it off.

That was the last straw. Eric decided it was time for the old school snap traps. I told him I didn't want to know where he set it, and it couldn't be anywhere I'd see it before him (so he could check it). Basically, there was no way I'd be able to see the dead mouse in the trap. So he set it before we went to bed last night

This morning, Eric woke me up by nudging me and tell me the mouse is dead. He was all excited because he heard it go off just a few minutes earlier, and continued to go into detail of what the whole thing sounded like. I tried to get him to stop - I didn't want to know. I just asked him to please make it all go away before I came downstairs. And he did.

So now comes the fun task of complete disinfection. That's been fun today... and gross, because the damn mouse left a trail of where he'd been. I've cleaned out the fish tank cabinet and all the counters in the kitchen (we had done the floors after the first round with this damn mouse). But I think I might have to go a second round of cleaning here shortly, for my own sanity. Here's hoping that is was, indeed, just one mouse. I really hope the next time I see a blur, it's my mind playing tricks on me.