Catch Mouse!When we moved into our new house last fall, we were told all the new home construction in the mountains had stirred the field mouse population and to expect to run across one in our garage or basement.
We did see a little one in our garage when we were moving in. He ran away before we could catch him and seen from a distance, the little thing was kinda cute.
When I realized this weekend there was one living in my CAR, totally creeped out, any memories I had involving cuteness towards the nasty creatures vanished.
We suspect he made his way into my car from the field, to our garage, to the stroller (which we sometimes store in the garage), to the car. I became aware of his presence when I found my half-marathon training schedule, which I had left in the backseat, chewed into suspiciously-looking nest-like shreds.
I went to the store and purchased every kind of mouse trap they had. I then left it to my hubby to rid my car of the beast.
My hubby had a preference for the traditional snapping mouse trap so he dotted two of these traps with the suggested peanut butter, set the triggers, and placed them in my car.
The next morning he checked the traps. The traps remained un-triggered, sitting exactly as before. With one exception. The peanut butter was licked clean.
Tricky little devil. I might expect such advanced thinking from a more experienced rodent, such as, say, a city rat. But a field mouse? My hatred toward the creature, now a clever adversary, grew stronger.
I took it into my own hands to dot two of the sticky traps from my mouse trap collection with peanut butter and place them strategically in the car. And I waited.
About 10 o'clock last night Jake checked on the traps. A little confused, he came in and asked me where I had placed them. I told him. He said one was still there, but the other was missing. Completely gone.
Back into the car and armed with only a flashlight, my hubby,and manly hunter, found the mouse. With its front paws stuck to the trap, he was under the driver's seat desperately trying to flee using only his hind legs.
Jake put him in a cardboard box, still stuck to the trap, while we tried to figure out what to do with him. We laughed when we noticed that although stuck and desperately fleeing for his life, the mouse had still taken advantage of his position and licked the peanut butter clean. We battled our sudden feelings of humanity toward the creature and our more dominent feelings of disgust.
Disgust won. He won't be coming back.
Plan Dinners.
Go hunting.