Okay, People. This Is It!

mousetrap

Image via Wikipedia

For the past week or so, on and off, I’ve been blogging about mice. The little field vermin have managed to find their way into my house. Notice I said MY house although they seem to think they have ownership too. My kids (and the cat) caught the one from last week and that is all wonderful and fine, but the furball had relatives…and they are many.

The other evening I was in the pantry looking for some ingredients, so I could whip together a dinner worthy of Taste of Home…..when I heard a scratch. A scratch nearby. I froze. Just then a teeny little head poked it’s way out of a Walmart bag, that I have a pile of, on the pantry floor. I don’t know who was more freaked out. Him or me?! After gaining my composure I stomped (so as to scare him away and not have him run up my pants legs or something) over to where I keep the glue traps.  I pulled one out and slapped it down on the floor. Some of you might think I’m cruel, but all is fair in love and war. This is war!

I’m still hearing scratching in the ceiling. I fear that I am going to have to suit up like a character from Ghost Busters, and trek up to the attic. It is unnerving to me….but a woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do. The attic is shadowy and dark. The puny little light bulb we have up there is not enough. This will give the rodent army the advantage. I on the other hand, like to think that I am much smarter than they are. I can woo them with peanut butter and cheese. Think of it as their last meal because they are dead mice walking.

I assume that they will watch me from the shadows with their beady little eyes. I will tell them, “This house isn’t big enough for the 200 of us. ( I really have no idea the number of mice in the attic. It could be 3 or 3 million, who really knows? They all look the same.) It’s me against you varmints! I will throw down the gauntlet. They will squeak in fear. Or not.

The saga continues…

Blam Baby! You’re Caught.

Mouse Trap, the game

Image by cote via Flickr

The end of the mouse story….for now.

This is how the whole macabre scene went down.

Nikki saw her opportunity and pounced. She got the mouse in her mouth and carried it off to the front foyer. I watched. She was looking for someplace to drop it. The mouse was still alive. She pawed it and got it in her mouth again. The mouse ended up getting loose. At this point I had the broom in hand. The mouse ran behind the bag of dog food. I swatted it out the other side where Nikki was waiting. The mouse saw Nikki and did a 360 in the middle of the floor. My daughter and son came running when they heard their mother scream. We cornered the mouse, but for having nearly lost his life with Nikki, he was still very quick.

At this point the mouse was scared out of his wits and came charging (can a mouse charge?) right at me. I let out an ear piercing scream and gave him the smack down with the kitchen broom. It temporarily stunned him, but before any of us could do anything, he shook it off and ran into the dining room behind the piano. Oh great! We scooted the piano out and he ran into the half bath, under the sink.

At this point my daughter checked out the bathroom and spotted him behind the trash can. He then ran under the sink cabinet and my son and daughter cornered him under there. Billy the Exterminator would be so proud. I’m so glad we home school so my kiddos could learn strategy this morning. How to trap a mouse under the bathroom sink 101. After about 10 minutes of manipulating the glue and spring traps and waiting him out…the mouse tried to make a dash, only to be caught fast in the glue.

Daughter took the mouse and trap outside to let him loose in the wild—-away from the house! He probably had a nervous breakdown and will most assuredly have a limp, but at least he is outside. He has a second chance…or third? ……or fourth? at life. He better take it and run far, far away. Next time he might not be so lucky! If I had my way he would be in mouse heaven right now. Just sayin’.

It’s Behind The Refrigerator!

RSPCA cat & mouse

Image by Jo and Paul's pics via Flickr

The saga continues…

I came out to the kitchen this morning, flipped on the lights and turned the coffee pot on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the “dark shadow” zip behind the refrigerator. As I came around the corner of the cabinets I saw Nikki sitting there like a statue. Her eyes glued to the small area around the fridge. She heard it too. She wanted it. She licked her chops.

I hear it moving around behind the refrigerator. It has to come out eventually. Nikki will be waiting. Hopefully. I hope she doesn’t give up when we let the dog out (in 10 min.) to use the bathroom. Lonnie is always so energetic in the morning, he might distract Nikki from her job.

Have I mentioned that I hate mice? Seriously.

What if that varmint had run across my foot when I opened the refrigerator door this morning? I would have had a screaming heart attack. The family would have shot out of bed sure that the world was coming to an end….and for me if would have. I would have been laying dead as a doornail on the kitchen floor.

Nikki repositioned…the mouse is now behind the freezer. (We have separate standing refrigerator/freezer) I can hear the little sucker. I think he is watching me type through the vent in the bottom of the freezer, under the door. I thought I heard a snicker.

He’s probably scared. Poor little field mouse can’t find his way out of this crazy house, big cat waiting on him to make the wrong move, owner of house threatening him bodily harm and laughing manically. Whatever. This war is still on…’cause I’m still thinking about how much mouse poop is probably behind my fridge. Stupid, mouse.

There Is Always Quiet Before The Storm…

Laboratory mouse

Image via Wikipedia

It is Thursday evening, 7:3o EST, at my house……and it is DEATHLY QUIET.

I am not used to this. I can’t even really enjoy the quiet because I am so unnerved by it. My family has trained me that if it is this quiet, something must be going on. It makes me wonder. I have various scenarios playing in my mind right now. Scary ones.

I just heard scratching.

It’s just me and the mice in the attic. I DO hear the furry little vermin up there. As for my other mouse on the loose in the house. Still haven’t found him. He could be anywhere. Our house is like mouse heaven for hiding places. There is no telling where he is at…or if his near death experience in Joe’s mouth the other day caused him to run for the hills. I hope he doesn’t come back with a bunch of his extended family. Just sayin’.

 

Survival Of The Fittest–Part 2

Mice with different coat colors.

Image via Wikipedia

The mouse is winning. After Sunday night’s glimpse of the mouse in my bedroom and then seeing it zip through the dining room yesterday morning, I didn’t see it at all. Mice are stealthy like that. They make a brief appearance than they are gone…until they show up again and scare the bejeebies out of you!

Last night around10:30, my daughter made an appearance at the bedroom door. ” I saw the mouse. “Where was it?  ” It was in Joe’s mouth.” (Joe is our 13 year old, indoor, ‘fraidy cat) Joe? She proceeded to tell us that she was on her computer and not paying attention to Joe, when he walked up to her. She was startled when she saw a tail hanging out of his mouth. The fact that she was startled, startled Joe who promptly dropped the mouse, which unfortunately happened to still be alive. The mouse beat a hasty retreat, thanking God for second chances, as he ran for his life under the bed. Joe took off after him. My daughter claimed she did not know the current location of the mouse. At this point I must say, I am highly impressed with Joe. He might be elderly, and afraid of his own shadow, but he still has some gumption left in him.

Last night I heard a mouse in the kitchen ceiling. Probably the same one I heard in the the ceiling of the pantry. I started to talk to the rogue mouse somewhere above my head. “Listen up fur ball, this is not a mouse house. Get out, or all bets are off. You think you are so smart, but I’ve got news for you…YOU ARE A MOUSE. Your brain is a lot smaller than mine. I will outwit you. I will get you. By the way, you better not be pooping all over my family’s stuff in the attic.”

I’ve never had this kind of problem before (multiple mice).  My family and I lived in an old farmhouse until I was 5 years old. I do remember that we had caught a mouse in the kitchen and I cried because the mouse had died. As a preschooler I didn’t understand the joy of catching a rodent. We moved to a rancher that my parents had built, out in the woods. No mice. Not once in the 14 years I lived there. The reason was we had snakes. Lots of snakes. Snakes eat mice. Now, I don’t know that I was thrilled with snakes either…but, they did take care of the mice or any other rodents near our house. The snakes were outside in the wild, by the way. We didn’t have snakes inside. If that had been the case, my mom would have died of a heart attack a long time ago.

My late husband and I rented a house in the city. It was a beautiful, older stone house. One Saturday afternoon I was on the phone when I saw a furry flash across the kitchen floor. I didn’t want to scream into the phone so I climbed on the dining room chair to finish my conversation, all the while dancing around and flailing my arms at my husband while pointing at the kitchen. He probably was wondering why he had chosen to marry a woman that was obviously insane.  As soon as I got off the phone, I told him that we had a mouse. He did not seem as upset as I was. Men. Puh-leeze. They don’t appear as alarmed about filthy, stinkin’ rodents as I am. What’s with that?

The house that I lived in in Knoxville, TN. only had one mouse incident. A field mouse got in under the garage door. I laid traps in the garage. It was a veritable landmine. I caught him on a glue trap. He was teeny tiny. I didn’t want to touch him so I picked the entire trap up and tossed it in the woods. Now, I lived in the city. The only mouse inside was that one. I did have a RAT problem outside. The rats were huge, and much scarier than mice. These rats would eat my dog’s food. This just goes to prove that Walmart dogfood will bulk up rats. Big time. They’d stand on their hind legs and stare at me as if to say, “Where’s the chow, lady?”. I ended up poisoning those suckers. (away from the dog or food rest assured)

So, this puts me back to our new house here in Ohio. Yes, we live in a farm field. Yes, I realize that there are field mice. I just didn’t expect the influx from outside. I am a grown woman. I should not be bothered by a mouse the size of my little finger…BUT, I am. This is a battle I intend to win.

Let the games begin.

 

Simply NOT Acceptable

Wood mouse (Apodemus sylvaticus) in the Nether...

Image via Wikipedia

Last night I was in bed, all propped up with pillows, snuggled in my super soft blanket, hubby by my side.  I was checking out something on my lap top with one eye while I watched TV with the other. (it’s  a gift) Then I saw IT. Well, I thought I saw it. Okay, I sort of saw it, out of the corner of my eye. A small, black mouse. I thought it might be my imagination, or a shadow. I tried to make myself feel better, but it didn’t work. I had hubby turn down the TV volume so I could listen. I have super bat-like hearing. The slightest squeak, rustle, or gnawing and I would hear it. I’m freaky that way. A slight rub on the side of one of my baskets…..a black flash scooted in front of the french doors. AAaaggggh!

Hubby set a trap, and placed it near the wall on my side of bedroom. My first thought was, what if I have to get up to pee in the middle of the night and forget the trap is there and snap my toe off? Stinkin’ rodent, putting me through this turmoil, and right before bed!!!! I finally got to sleep worrying that this mouse would wait until I’m sound asleep and then gnaw my face off. I have a vivid imagination.

This morning I carefully got up (it was still dark outside) and assessed the situation with the light from my cell phone. (didn’t want to turn the light on and bother hubby) I did not see a dead mouse. Ugh. I tiptoed around ( I have no idea why…I didn’t want to disturb the renegade mouse??!!) .

I made my way out to the dining room and kitchen. As I flipped on the light I saw our cat, Nikki, laying on the rug in front of the fire place. Just then—flash—the black shadow ran behind some pictures that I have leaning against the wall. I picked Nikki up and threw her at the pictures. Bless her heart she had no idea what was going on. She had her back to the whole mouse situation and didn’t see it and now her owner is throwing her and telling her to “sic it”.  Poor girl. She’ll need pet therapy.

Then it was 8 am and time to let the dog out. My son’s new little dog is part Fox Terrier/Schipperke. Both these  types of dogs have hunting small animals in their blood. Their ancestors are fox, squirrel,  and rat killers. A small field mouse should be a piece of cake. Alas, he was more worried in going to the bathroom than catching a sly field mouse.He and I are going to have a talk.

Now as I sit here typing, I notice Nikki stalking around the living room. I think she is on the scent. She is intently watching….something. If Lonnie, the wonder dog, sees the mouse it will be toast. He already nearly destroyed the cat’s stuffed gerbil toy. Wahahaha!  House pets, unite!

If this situation is an example of how the rest of the day is going to go, well than I am in trouble.

Lonnie, Nikki, and I are going on a mouse hunt.

It is totally unacceptable to me to have even one lone mouse in the house. I cannot deal with it. Dirty, disgusting, nasty varmint.

Who Let The Birds In?

The Birds  - Alfred Hitchcock

FOR THE LOVE OF PETE!!!

It happened this morning while I was sitting on the toilet. Once again, I was minding my own business when I heard it. It started as a scratching sound and went into full blown flapping of wings. The vent that was to the side of me and above my head, the vent that one can hear attic noises in…it would have scared the pee out of me, if I hadn’t already done that. As I was sitting there and all the flapping commenced, I had a brief Alfred Hitchcock moment. What if that bird comes in through the bathroom vent and in a fit of terror, pecks me to death? First spiders try to attack me in the bathroom, and then a stinkin’ mouse, now a crazed bird. And the thing is….this is a BRAND NEW house. We do not live in a dump that any vermin can just call home. Wait a minute. I guess we do live in a house that vermin can call home. (and no I’m not talking about me and my family)

1. Now someone (not me) is going to have to go up to the attic and find the scared bird and shoo it out a window. How it got in, I do not know. I suggest the brave soul wear a plastic shield over their face, in case the bird DOES pull an Alfred Hitchcock. I don’t even want to think about the fact that a scared bird has probably poo’d on our valuable possessions in the attic. Sigh. I hope our Christmas decorations will not have white goop on them.

2. We caught a mouse behind the kitchen trashcan. I am about over the mouse situation. I do not care if we moved to the country. I do not care that we live in a field. I do not care that the walls of our house are warm and snug for a mouse’s home. I do not like scratchy noises in the walls. I do not like a mouse to be heard as I am fixing my morning breakfast. As God as my witness, if a mouse comes flying out at me when I open a cabinet in the wee hours of the morning–when I’m not even fully awake I will not rest until it is DEAD. The neighbors 5 miles down the road will hear me screaming and running around like a wild banshee. Hey people, I’m not dealing well with this. It was rats that carried the Bubonic Plague you know…I have a right not to want them in my house. Okay, fine. So these are field mice the size of my pinky finger, still they could be KILLERS.  Has anyone seen the movie, Mouse Hunt? That is my life!

3. I killed a honkin’ big black spider in the laundry room yesterday. Seriously, HONKIN’ big. I smashed him with my trusty flip flop. I still had those in the shoe bin out there. Flip flops are the best spider killers because they are light and flexible. BLAM. He is smooshed. That’s what he gets. No sympathy from me. I left his guts on the wall as a warning to other 8 legged creepy crawlies who think that the laundry room is their home. I’ve got news for them. IT IS NOT. I still do not like spiders, but I’ve gotten braver as time has gone on. And as long as I have a flip flop and a can of Raid, I think I’m good to go.

Wait a minute…..I just heard something.