This year for the third winter running we have mice, I don’t know why it is but this makes me feel very very fed-up. Maybe it’s because not only do they poo everywhere but they also pee everywhere (which of course you can’t see) and they now seem immune to poison and frankly I can’t work out where they’re coming in from. Well, we live in an old Victorian house so they’re probably coming in via the cellar but what I mean is, we’ve blocked all the entrances and exits that we possibly can (though mice can get through the tiniest of holes) and I can’t quite think what else to do. My job for this evening is to box everything up that hasn’t been attacked into those big plastic boxes I bought during last year’s invasion. Great. Fun.
Killing mice always makes me feel bad too, it’s not like I’m killing them because I need the food I’m just killing them for my own convenience which is a bit crap really.
Now had I written this post a couple of days ago it would have been more upbeat, rooting for the mouse perhaps. I woke up to find a mouse in the middle of the kitchen floor seemingly unable to move and yet desperately trying to do so. I got down from the chair I was standing on (can’t believe how quickly I got on it, luckily nobody saw me) once I realised that the mouse wasn’t going anywhere fast. Trying to decide what to do with the mouse I called my son in to take a look and then woke my daughter up to consult with her too. The options were, as I saw it, scoop it up into a tupperware box and put the lid on leaving it to suffocate, force feed it poison, stab it or take it outside to become part of the food chain. In the end I opted for the latter though I did think I should have stabbed it as there was definitely something wrong with it, it would have been kinder to end things for it quickly. Apparently my husband had seen it earlier but was in a rush and didn’t have any shoes on or he’d have stamped on it!!…which is I suppose marginally better than the friend of my dad’s who caught a mouse, not sure how, and not knowing what to do with it then, squeezed it to death.
In the photo above we’ve given the mouse some bread to chomp on to try to help it chill out. Unsurprisingly it wasn’t too interested in eating at that precise moment.
We decided to bite the bullet and get a cat. It’s something that we’ve looked into before but last time I was reminded, via feeding an ex-boss’s cats for a fortnight, that I am actually allergic to cats. This time round though the local Cat’s Protection place has kittens in at the moment so I went to take a look this afternoon. And bugger me if we can’t get a cat. And do you know why???…because we have a mouse!! That’s correct, you have to get rid of your mice before you can get cats folks. That’s the whole bloody reason I want a freakin cat!!!!! Having a cat would either work or it wouldn’t, either way we’d have the cat and that would be a nice thing. Once we get rid of the mice we won’t have the need for the cat so probably won’t get one. Buggerbloddyation.