When she saw a mouse in her house, my mother’s
declaration that the place was “filled with livestock” made me picture cattle
rambling through the living room. (She was occasionally given to hyperbole.)
I first saw our little mouse when he ran from
under the basement door to hide behind the dry sink in the family room. My
shriek made him do an about face and race back to the depths from which he had
come. I stuffed a towel under the door, hoping he would give up and go away.
He didn’t. The hole he nibbled out of the edge
of the plastic cookie container sitting on my kitchen counter was huge. Then I
noticed a sesame cookie resting behind the back burner of the stove. When I
told my husband I thought it must be a huge mouse to be able to carry food that
size, he came to see. By the time hubby walked into the kitchen the cookie was
gone – and that was in broad daylight.
I
bought every kind of mousetrap you can think of. Most of them grossed me out. I
dreaded having to see its little head …well, you know. I found one trap that
actually kept the dearly departed inside, hidden in a separate compartment. I
put every kind of lure I could find in that trap but no luck. The only other
thing I could think to do next was stay up all night armed with a shotgun and night
vision goggles.
Meanwhile,
I kept the counters clear of cookies and even put the sugar bowl in the toaster
oven every night. I planned to starve the bugger out but I think Mother Nature
took care of our little visitor.
We
live in the boonies and our property butts up to open fields. On wintery
mornings I find some mighty strange tracks in the snow. If I were a hunter I would probably know what livestock are roaming around our trees and under our
windows at night; I can tell you the creatures are not small and they take big strides.
I see hoof prints but those long sets of three horizontal lines, two up front
and one behind, are pretty scary.
I
think mousie went outside searching for food one night and got et.
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