Monday, July 4, 2011


This story is more hubby's than mine but, whatever.

He got to stay home for the 4th of July. While he was puttering around he heard a squeak from under the dishwasher. He moved everything and discovered a mouse under there. Damn it. Thought we'd destroyed the vermin when we were on our cruise. Came home to dead mouse in the mousetrap.  But, I digress.

Today, the mouse decided to hide from him but eventually he flushed it in to the open. Where our nice cat grabbed it and ran into the basement with it. He then watched her toss it around and tease it. It played dead. Luckily, hubby is smarter than a mouse. So, he caught it and drowned it. Better than our cat torturing it to death and leaving entrails everywhere.

He felt bad about killing the mouse but I assured him it was okay. After all, it's not like he bought humane traps and then drowned them. Like my mother used to.


  1. To clarify - mouse in mousetrap, squeaking, but apparently not too badly. Opened up and had an "awww, poor thing" moment. It was pretty active, and I was afraid it still might bite, so I gently tried to pull it out with my pliers. As soon as the trap wiggled a little bit it was off like a bat out of hell. Dived right under the stove. Moved the stove, then straight to fridge. Back to the dishwasher. At this point I'm getting tired of this.

    Finally I flush it out from under the fridge again. Sera has decided to grace me with her presence, sees the mouse and snaps it up - POW! Runs down the stairs like the hounds of hell are after her.

    I get downstairs dreading that the mouse has escaped in our labyrinthine basement. But no, she is tossing it around, letting it play dead, waiting tell it moves, then pounces again. It never gets more than a foot away from where it started. Finally, it really, REALLY plays dead, but I can see the whiskers twitch. Out comes the mop bucket. POW! Right over top of the mouse.

    NOW what? I slip an old pizza box underneath, and carry the whole assembly out of the house. Carry it as far away from the house proper as I can, weight it down with a stone, then bring out the hose.

    Slowly fill the bucket, feeling all the while like a sadistic murderer. Hearing scratching and splashing while the mouse tries to swim out. Apparently you're supposed to hold them down with something (you know, to be more humane). Didn't make me feel better.

    So now what? I assume it's safe at this point to believe it's no longer just playing dead. So I poke into the recycling and find a styrofoam take-out container and scoop-up the mouse.

    It occurs to me just then that the styrofoam container is an arts and crafts project Hailey had to do earlier this year. It was supposed to be a house for Mrs. Mouse. I feel strangely relieved by that. I wrap it into a plastic bag and settle it in the trash.

    Later Hailey heard about the capture and Sera's awesomeness (couldn't leave that story untold). As far as she knows for now the mouse was taken out and let go, and probably went to her school (which for some reason is thrilling).

    All in all I'm pretty sad about this, and I don't want to have to do that again.

    Maybe one day I'll tell her what really happened to the mouse, and where he has been laid to his eternal rest, and hopefully she will feel good about that and smile, but today isn't that day.

  2. It occurs to me I've been referring to the mouse as a could very well have been a she, and therefore a real "Mrs.Mouse".

    Not that it matters.