We have mouse troubles. Twenty years ago we had a mouse in our house and we won that war. So when we found clues in our pantry that we had a mouse in the house, after I pitched everything I thought a mouse had touched, and I bleached the shit out of the space, we went in war mode. King Ralph devised our war plan--four traps with a taste of peanut butter and a temporary thresh hold thick enough to fill the gap at the base of the pantry door (a road block of sorts).
It was Monday night around 10pm, I had just crawled into bed, when I heard King Ralph calling my name from the kitchen. Score! People we have a mouse.
To be on the proactive side King Ralph reset trap one and left traps two through four in place. Because where there is one mouse, there is usually another.
It was 3am when suddenly our smoke detector starting talking to us, "your battery power is low." Really?! Could this life saving device not have considered talking to us, say at 9pm? King Ralph got up to tend to the battery need, when he told me he had got up earlier in the night and found two more trapped mice. He reset the traps. After searching for a battery he returned to the bedroom proclaiming a fourth mouse had been caught. At this point I am freaking out. Four mice in my house. FOUR! It is at this point that I'm about four five seconds from wild in'! We tried settling ourselves back to sleep when at 4:12am I hear slap, snap...yep mouse five was trapped. Twelve minutes later, slap, snap, mouse six. I babbling to the dead mice, from my bedroom, "I'm out of gold fish crackers you bastards, you ate'm all."
Morning broke and King Ralph, cop by day, was now a mouse wrangler by night. A title he wore proudly. Like any good mouse wrangler would do he procured a bag of "TomKat" mouse poison. He slipped the tasty sticks under the sink's cabinet kick boards--he was in it to win it. (I do believe there was a section in our marriage vows that said "do you promise to allow King Ralph to tend to all mouse troubles, do you promise to allow him to set the traps and discard of the mouse...because I sure as hell was not about to touch those devilish rodents!)
Wednesday we left for church and King Ralph set a single trap, you know, just in case. After church we went to the movies to see Cinderella (King Ralph was thrilled. NOT!) and when we returned there was a mouse in the trap. Mouse seven. SEVEN. SEVEN FREAKING MICE IN MY HOUSE. My house is clean. Can't these rodents scurry off to the dirty house in the neighborhood?
I am happy to say we had a mouse free night. The mice either are experiencing a dehydrating death of yummy TomKat treats or they got the idea that their army is decreasing and the mouse wrangler is winning, sending them scurrying off to another abode in the hood.
Either way, King Ralph the mouse wrangler claims victory!
2 comments:
Hooray! Victory is YOURS! Or Ralph's. :)
Mice do not come inside because your house is dirty---on the contrary. They come in because it is nice and warm...AND you have food. Don't see it any other way.
If it is any consolation, we had mice years ago...and we have cats. Go figure. They were in the walls.
Keep the trap line going for a while, even after it stays empty for a while just in case. I echo Lin, though the mice are nasty they just like your nice warm house.
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