Now, I'm not, as a rule, afraid of rodents. We have had pet mice and there is, currently, a pet rat in the family. I don't just tolerate these little critters, I really like them. But there's a difference between the fancy mice and rats that we buy at PetSmart and a wild one that was not invited into my home. My guess is the little squatter now hiding somewhere in my kitchen snuck in through the back door to escape the same monsoon that we had left the door open to enjoy Monday evening. But as far as I was concerned, the rain had passed and he had outstayed his welcome the moment he set foot in my house. I wanted him gone, NOW. But we couldn't determine where he had hidden himself and we had no way to trap him. So Steve declared that he would buy a mouse trap and bring it home after work that day...then he went back to bed. I returned to the sofa and picked the book up again, one eye on the page and one toward the kitchen.
About thirty minutes later, the little trouble maker showed himself again, but as soon as he saw me move he bolted...right under my bedroom door. Naturally, I started shouting again. By the time I got into the bedroom, Steve already had the lights on and was searching the room. The kids poured down the stairs and joined the nocturnal excitement, spotting the mouse in our bathroom. It jumped into a little space under the sink and we cornered it there. We spent the next three hours trying to coax it out into an empty peanut butter jar that still had bits of peanut butter in it. It would come out and go into the jar, but the instant we tried to trap it, it would bolt back under the sink. At 4:30, Steve gave up and got ready for work. He left the kids and I to take turns watching the sink from the safety of our bathtub. In the midst of all this, daughter A went out to the garage to get something and came back in saying she heard something out there. Daughter K and I went out to investigate and confirmed there was something alive out there. Were we being overrun by mice? We stepped in and scooted the paper bag from which the noise was coming and out jumped a frog the size of my fist. I about jumped out of my skin. My nerves had had enough by that time. The frog was quickly shown the exit and we returned to our other uninvited guest.
By 6:30 we gave up on the peanut butter jar and duct taped the openings under the sink, but knowing that the mouse could chew through the tape, we continued to take turns watching the sink while the others tried to get a little sleep. We watched that sink ALL DAY Tuesday until Steve came home with a live trap. Daughter K cleverly taped the opening of the trap over the opening to the sink and we finally left the bathroom. Twenty-four hours after it made it's first appearence, I awoke to the sound of the mouse scraping around in the trap.
The whole family headed out toward a nearby field this morning to release our unwelcome visitor, who was incredibly tiny and scared and probably not worth me being quite so dramatic about. Being carried in a plastic box in 90+ degree weather, it got way too hot and was nearly dead before we reached the field. Steve dropped it out of the box and got it into the shade of a bush where we poured cold water on it. Sure, I didn't want it in my house but I didn't really want to hurt it either...especially in front of the kids. I can't imagine what the little thing must have thought about us. We chased it around the house, offered it peanut butter, taped it into it's hiding place, trapped it in a plastic box, nearly baked it to death and then poured water all over it.
After a few moments out of the box and being soaked down with the wate
r, it struggled to it's feet and staggered a couple of feet away from us. We decided it would be okay and left it there. I sit at my computer now in the comfortable conviction that the only rodent in my house is the pleasant, clean little rat that is snuggled up and dozing on my shoulder and I can't help but wonder what sort of stories the little field mouse is telling his mouse friends today.
r, it struggled to it's feet and staggered a couple of feet away from us. We decided it would be okay and left it there. I sit at my computer now in the comfortable conviction that the only rodent in my house is the pleasant, clean little rat that is snuggled up and dozing on my shoulder and I can't help but wonder what sort of stories the little field mouse is telling his mouse friends today.
