A Rodent Menagerie
I have a mouse. Not in the sense that I have pet gerbils or a hamster. There is a mouse loose in my house...in the kitchen to be exact.
It isn't that I don't like rodents. In cages, running around on their little wheels, I think they're great. (actually I pretty much feel the same about mr. bush, but that's another story) I do not however like them scurrying freely about in the same place that I prepare my food.
I was taking the stickers off the piece of a fixture I salvaged from work, planning on turning it into a plant holder when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. For a moment I thought it was one of those weird tricks your peripheral vision sometimes plays on you. Then I saw again. Clearly. It was little, it was brown and it ran right under my pantry door. I sprinted after it but it was no where in sight. This would not stand.
I built a wall to rival anything China has ever produced. 12-packs of soda, potatoes and cans of soup blocked the rodent houdini's escape from the panty. I then proceeded to remove everything, one shelf at a time. I found things that they took off the market years ago. Safety shmaftey, it does say "best by" not do not eat after, am I right? Anyhow, the little poot was nowhere to be found. Then I heard it. A little squeak behind me. I slowly turned and there, on top of the water heater, staring me dead in the eye was my quarry. If you've never been faced down by a mouse, you don't understand how forbidding they can be, but regardless, he held my gaze. I realized then that despite having found the little monster, I had no idea what to do.
"I need something to trap him in..." Preferably something disposable. Thank god for the advent of tupperware! Plastic lunch container in hand, I prepared to catch the mouse. Plastic container in hand, I watched him shimmy down the wall next to the water heater and disappear. We are talking about a space maybe a 1/4 of an inch wide. I stood and stared. Buh-bye.
I went after him with a mag-lite and coat hanger, but the beast was gone. No sign of him, and no visible route of escape. I cannot figure out for the life of me where he went. Unless he's inside the water heater. This, while unlikely, is still possible.
So now, here I sit. I should be working, or doing homework, or various other things that need to be done. Instead, I sit. I can hear him in there. Waiting. Plotting. But I will have the last laugh. I will snare the beast if it takes me all night. I must.
"I do not like this stupid mouse. I do not like it in my house. I'd like to hit it with a mat, or better yet, a baseball bat...."
-Veelzabub
It isn't that I don't like rodents. In cages, running around on their little wheels, I think they're great. (actually I pretty much feel the same about mr. bush, but that's another story) I do not however like them scurrying freely about in the same place that I prepare my food.
I was taking the stickers off the piece of a fixture I salvaged from work, planning on turning it into a plant holder when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. For a moment I thought it was one of those weird tricks your peripheral vision sometimes plays on you. Then I saw again. Clearly. It was little, it was brown and it ran right under my pantry door. I sprinted after it but it was no where in sight. This would not stand.
I built a wall to rival anything China has ever produced. 12-packs of soda, potatoes and cans of soup blocked the rodent houdini's escape from the panty. I then proceeded to remove everything, one shelf at a time. I found things that they took off the market years ago. Safety shmaftey, it does say "best by" not do not eat after, am I right? Anyhow, the little poot was nowhere to be found. Then I heard it. A little squeak behind me. I slowly turned and there, on top of the water heater, staring me dead in the eye was my quarry. If you've never been faced down by a mouse, you don't understand how forbidding they can be, but regardless, he held my gaze. I realized then that despite having found the little monster, I had no idea what to do.
"I need something to trap him in..." Preferably something disposable. Thank god for the advent of tupperware! Plastic lunch container in hand, I prepared to catch the mouse. Plastic container in hand, I watched him shimmy down the wall next to the water heater and disappear. We are talking about a space maybe a 1/4 of an inch wide. I stood and stared. Buh-bye.
I went after him with a mag-lite and coat hanger, but the beast was gone. No sign of him, and no visible route of escape. I cannot figure out for the life of me where he went. Unless he's inside the water heater. This, while unlikely, is still possible.
So now, here I sit. I should be working, or doing homework, or various other things that need to be done. Instead, I sit. I can hear him in there. Waiting. Plotting. But I will have the last laugh. I will snare the beast if it takes me all night. I must.
"I do not like this stupid mouse. I do not like it in my house. I'd like to hit it with a mat, or better yet, a baseball bat...."
-Veelzabub
posted by Veelzabub at 10:38 PM
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