Vermin, Vermin, Vermin ...
One of the delights of living amongst woods and trees and fields and such is the proliferation of small pointy toothed rodent types with whom one shares space. I'm currently involved in a protracted and vicious battle for lawn domination with a mole, whose work ethic is admirable and sense of direction execrable.
The mole reminded me of a recent incident, to give some background, thanks to our trio of feline ninjas we see mice in one of the following states
- a small kidney shaped bit of entrail left on the kitchen floor, presumably the only inedible bit of a mouse and quite easily recognized by its texture as it squelches under bare toes.
- half a mouse, front or back but neatly bisected, presumably "I'll finish that off later when I'm peckish"
- 'alive but not for long' this is the "look what I caught, all must bow before me for I am Tango the destroyer, mightiest of hunters"
As a result of the 'trophy live mouse exercise' we recently had an escapee, it surfaced in the TV room, then, terminally depressed, (as who wouldn't be by Mrs Stuffy's fascination with tone deaf social misfits being harangued for sport) Houdini-mouse made a gradual break for freedom, over a week he made his way toward the utility room, his progress track-able by the occasional sight of various cats staring fixedly beneath various items of furniture.
In a rare moment of humanity I bought a humane trap, a pivoting plastic tube which lures mousey inside with the scent of chocolate (obviously one baits it when Mrs Stuffy is distracted). Once our furry refugee enters the tube it pivots, the door shuts behind him and he's safely contained in a 6" plastic prison (like a furry little Japanese businessman in his overnight capsule hotel) until released, unharmed and presumably rested, back into nature (the mouse not the businessman).
Imagine how frustrating for 3 vicious killers to see a 6" inch plastic tube rattling around under the stove making vaguely mouse-like noises. Imagine the feline fun and frolics of a kitchen-wide game of "let's see how far we can kick this thing and how much squeaking we can generate."
I came down at 6am to find the trap sprung, weightier than usual and some 8 feet from it's original location.
I retrieved what I now feared was a rodent coffin, gave the cats the slip and headed off into the woods. I removed the end cap and released a tiny shivering, wide-eyed little field mouse ont0 the ground, I swear, that as it started to run for safety, it paused for a moment, and I'm sure I saw a tiny flash of gratitude in it's big brown eyes.
I hit it with a shovel anyway, bloody mice!
I didn't really :)
posted by Stuffy @ 10:30 pm
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