Thursday, August 21, 2008

Feeding Frenzy

So there's been this ...aroma the garage that I badly wanted to attribute to the fact that the week we were away it was over 30 every day and we'd missed garbage day.

Yesterday, after the offending garbage was removed, I went out to get something from the deep freeze and a small dark something scampered away.

Sighing deeply, I brought out the traps. We back onto a lake, which is encircled by a footpath, which separates the lake from a river. Mice are inevitable. The last time we had mice, I stopped counting bodies at 17. For some reason, I am the Mouse Terminator in this house. I do not like this job. I do not like the mice, and I most certainly do not want the mice in my house, (so far they have not ventured past the garage, which apparently provides all they could ever want or need) but I do not like killing mice. It feels inherently wrong, particularly in view of my last post, to lure mice to peanut butter with the express purpose of causing their last thought to be "Hey that smells grea - !" I wish I could sit down with them all and just have a wee chat, and agree not to set peanut butter into things that will kill them if they will agree to scamper off to the ample food and shelter of the nearby forest.

They are not interested in this. They are interested in licking peanut butter off traps and wandering off. Yesterday I watched a very small mouse (whose mother I had just disposed of) delicately lick every last vestige of peanut butter off a trap without springing it. It was my deep sigh that alerted the young thing to my presence, or I think perhaps it might have just curled up close by to wait until I refilled the trap.

So this is how I think it's working now. I fill the traps. Since I can NOT set a trap down without springing it at least once, there is a loud snap when I put it down. The legions of mice asleep under my garage perk up, and tell each other it's feeding time. They wait until I am gone. Today there was a second snap, and I'm sure I heard tiny whisperings as they tried to decide if there were now two feeding bowls, or if that was the same feeder making that noise twice in a row.

At any rate, I'm sure they've emptied them in the time it took me to type this. I really should go refill the things. Perhaps I should put out a small bowl of water as well, and save them the long, exhausting hike to the river?

(Also, one of the sprung traps is missing. Completely. I moved the nearby shelf but it's not under there. Are they taking it apart and studying how it works? Am I going to walk outside one day, lured by the aroma of barbecued steak, and find myself in Glory?)


Kay Day said...

Ha ha. That made me laugh. Thank you! Boy, I needed that.

Oh, and sorry about the mice. We have bait traps. They eat it and it kills them but it also makes them die in a way that their corpses don't stink. The terminator guy comes and fills them every few months, but I'm sure they are do-it yourselfable, too.

Vacant Uterus said...

LOL! Barebecure people traps!

I read that one aloud to my best SIL and we both laughed and laughed.

Kassi said...

You could just dispose of the traps altogether and provide small dishes of peanut butter.

With finger bowls and towels for afterwards ...

Angi said...

I feel the same way - it feels so wrong, why don't they just listen to me and stay away!!??

Anonymous said...

You know they studied you Sue if you find a Macbook waiting for you out in the garage....