Eternal Mouse

Daily me.  If it means rodent infestation for the next fifty years, this is what it is, and we are defeatedly overrun.  

We have lost the battle against the Mickeys.  I just caught one in the laundry basket.  A baby.  And while my immediate heart reaction said omg omg it's the cutest thing ever!!!   We all know that means there are a hundred of those sweet tailed 'babies'. I want to throw up over it honestly.   Hanta.  Virus.  I can't live with it, and all the same it really was so so adorable and tiny, just looking at me because it's a dumb baby mouse and doesn't know it's a baby mouse staring at a human in a house.  My house.  

I understand most people old school in this, poison em!  Trap em clip style!  And I'll admit that is an option, but a last option because we don't feel punishment for a wrong turn means death, but that day may be coming.  Truthfully, the reason is two fold.  

1.  We truly are pacifists at heart, it's one of the strongest and most compatible things Mr. Morgan and I have in common - we are bleeding heart for animals.  As humans who know better, that is our job. At the end of a worst day of fighting we can look at each other and say "Wanna kick the shit out of a dog?"  Knowing the answer is no, but it's a starting point.  Heh, maybe that's what all relationships need... a kick off point of agreement to move from, even if "Ok right, the gas bill is high and car note needs paid... but we aren't going to make a pinata of the dog ...so...."  Works in this house all the while the dog is staring at us with a jumpy countenance and elbow. 

Pacifism to extreme - Mister will walk a spider outdoors.... I won't.  But then he is a spider whisperer and will tell them "Listen....the wife is flipping out, roll with this and go outside.  When you come back in tomorrow and she swears it's you again, I'll cover your ass and tell her she's crazy, and you are a different spider."  They then jump in his hand (not kidding there, he's master at it and I've seen them jump into his open palm and been angry of it).

More on Charlie, O.G. Mouse.  Two years ago Charlie would wire through the pipes and appear, completely stuck, in my bathtub.  Often. It was most great, until my nerves reminded me that his ilk was the reason for the bubonic plaque of 1832.

Charlie knew it was a good gig, smelled that we weren't going to kill him, and made himself at home. so when we had to ..for lack of.... "chemically remove" Charlie, every day we saw him eating slowly at the poison pellet.  When the pellet stopped moving, we began to notice the smell and Charlie had died somewhere in the vents so every time we ran the winter heater....yeah, we smelled Charlie.

2.  Another very valid reason  - we can't have snap traps in a house where a 17 year old blind dog lives.  We also can't have mice moving poison pellets around in a house a chocolate labrodor lives.  She'll gobble it like anything and everything, while the yorkie walks innocently into terror.

Last sighting - Mister in socks, running the laundry basket a block down to the dog park and shaking each piece of clothing out for all to see who have no idea what the fuck is going on.  We understand, and that's enough. 

- DM