There is a demarcation. It’s not invisible. Creatures of nature are allowed to be, as far as I’m concerned, relatively undisturbed – if they do their part and stay outside. If they cross the line and enter my home, all bets are off.

Bugs are not allowed. Spiders are generally captured and set free as we have a common enemy. But I recently discovered a mouse in the house. At first, it was a blur and a caught glipse of a tiny tail. Then it was the evidence it left behind in the pantry. I took defensive measures. I took a trip to Costco and bought a bunch of plastic containers. Anything a mouse could get into was repackaged into bins. The pantry was cleaned out, over 2 bags of garbage filled (not kidding), and everything wiped down with bleach.

A week later, as we were leaving the house, my husband emptied the garbage so that the dog wouldn’t help himself to it while we were out. Our garbage is in a cabinet, and our dog rips the door open to help himself to a stinky snack. Bastard.

When we returned from our outing, I grabbed garbage bags to re-line the cans, and when I opened it, that quick motion caught my eye. I confess that I screamed. In the empty can was the mouse. I first tried to get my husband to take it out but then decided there was no reason I couldn’t do it. It was a tall can, after all. I set it outside far from the house and tipped over the can facing away from me. It scampered away.

I had to explain to my son why we couldn’t keep it as a pet, and it was only then that I remembered my older sister having pet mice when we were kids. (Yet another example of how very different we’ve always been.) I don’t recall exactly how we came to be in possession of the 2 or 3 mice in a cage in our bedroom. If memory serves me, it was a friend of hers who had them and offered to give her 2 of them. I honestly cannot see my mother giving the thumbs up to this, so I would wager that she brought them home without asking first. My mother, being the kind of person she was, would have said how unhappy she was about it, but wouldn’t have forced them to be  taken back.

But here’s the thing: the cage really wasn’t adequate. The lid was placed on and couldn’t be locked in place. It was only a matter of time before these mice escaped and multiplied. And they did. For 3 months, we did battle. And it wasn’t the civil kind where you let them go free. This involved poisons and traps. All bets were off. The final one was found dead on my closet floor. That’s an image you don’t soon forget.

What I learned from the experience is that you don’t let mice into your house under any circumstance. And if they happen to surrender, there’s no reason to do them any harm. Besides, there’s a nice little owl in the neighborhood who might need a little snack.

| Category Life in General