It would seem we have a mouse problem at our house. This shouldn’t shock me since a) we live on the river and b) we encourage the wildlife (birds, squirrels, etc) to frequent our backyard by putting out seed and nuts and stuff. The only thing that might deter the rodents from entering our abode would be this …
or this ….
or maybe this …
or, god forbid, this …
There are four, count them 4!, of them. I checked, they are indeed cats! And all of them, at one time or another, have run into mice and come out victorious. But now, nothing.
Every morning, we pull out the drawers and clean out more droppings. We’ve moved all the treats (human & feline) to other places, including many to the garbage because the bags have been breached. Not even the loss of their beloved Whiska’s Treats can goad them into action.
The cats claim they are on strike. I counter with “this isn’t a union job – step up or go home!” To which they explain that they are home and I might want to get some sleep since I’m obviously befuddled. So, we went to the store and got mouse traps.
After a Laurel & Hardy routine in which I almost lost a finger trying to get the traps set, we put them in the drawers and tried very hard NOT to think about them. It goes against everything I believe to kill any animal, however certain animals are indoor pets and others are flea & disease infested creatures that belong outside. We looked at humane traps but neither of us could face trying to empty the trap should it catch something. I’m sorry, I just can’t. Mice are right up there with snakes for me.
Yesterday, we checked the traps and the top drawer had caught one. The mouse was huge! Helen tried to stand up for the cats saying she wouldn’t want to face that thing alone either. I called them worthless reprobates. Then I held the bag as Helen used our special “Mouse Trap” tongs (ones that will never go near food EVER AGAIN!) and dropped the mess, trap and all, into the bag. Then we both had an attack of the shakes and the cats sneered and called us wusses.
Their newest excuse is that since we brought these two hell beasts
into the house, the kitchen is now off limits to them and therefore, they should not be responsible for anything that happens or infiltrates said room. I would just like to point out that these overly sensitive feelings get tossed to the curb when dinner is being prepared or when their food is being dished out. Then, there are no picket lines to cross.