If you read my earlier post about my house, I neglected to mention that this wonderful piece of land I purchased is for the most part, rural. I don't live in an allotment, instead choosing to plunk my house down in a clearing near the woods. While it makes for beautiful surroundings, it also comes with some issues. Garden and Wolf spiders love my home. During the summer, my house could rival any haunted house in October for the number of spider webs clinging to the eaves and around the light fixtures. Wasps love the rafters and eaves. I've had yellow jackets bore into the siding and into the space between the first and second floor. I've dealt with all of these issues, accepting them as the price for the scenery. The one I struggle with is the mice.
Mice moved into the garage early on. Coming from a development in Akron, I just never had to deal with mice inside of a home. If we had them when I was a child, my parents never said. So the first time I saw one in the garage, I tried not to panic. I was married at the time and my husband simply set old fashioned wooden mouse traps. And he invariably caught them. I was spared the setting, baiting, placing, and then disposing of said traps. I was fine with that. Besides, they were in the garage. I didn't really care if they were out there. Of course, the mice didn't just stay in the garage, and when they made their assault on the main living area, I was ready. I had house cats after all. I just assumed the cats would take care of the problem. I was partially right. The cats usually caught and killed them, but then I had to retrieve their stiff little bodies and wing them into the woods.
Fast forward a few years. Now divorced, I'm left to deal with the mouse problem mostly myself. Because I rescue Brittanys, I can no longer have the cats have run of the house. So they aren't any good for mousing. None of this would be an issue except that last week, I noticed 'mouse droppings' in my kitchen. Just the thought of their tiny paws running over my counters was enough to make me cringe. I wipe down every flat surface daily with Clorox wipes but it doesn't help expunge the image of these tiny, disease ridden varmints tracking all over my counter tops. I had to take action.
I stopped at my local big box home improvement store to look for mouse traps. The fact that there is a dizzying array of different traps sort of amazed me. I kept thinking about the old joke about building a better mouse trap. The entire time I'm shopping, I'm wishing, praying that there was a 'rent a husband' service at this store. Because face it, that's what I really wanted. I didn't want to bait, set, and then 'collect' these traps. I wanted that knight in shining armor to charge in and take care of it for me. Allowing myself a few moments of fantasy, I finally decided on the type of trap that I had to bait, but then would close and keep me from seeing the dead mouse. All I had to do was toss the entire trap when 'full'. Great. Even I can handle this.
I set the traps earlier this evening. I bought two of them and placed them as the instructions suggested. I went into the living room with the dogs to watch television, assuming that I would check the traps in the morning. I used peanut butter as the bait, carefully replacing the paper sticker holding it inside the trap. Twisting the trap to set it, I placed them both against a wall and headed for the other room. I heard nothing. About an hour and a half later, I went into the kitchen to get a soda from the refrigerator. I glanced towards one of the traps and noticed it was sitting a couple of inches away from the wall. I was positive I set the trap against the wall. So I tiptoed over to the trap, and peered at the top. Sure enough, the 'mouse caught' flag was up. I couldn't believe it. That disgusting creature was actually in my kitchen while I was in the other room! Just the thought gave me shivers. The second trap was not touched.
Then it dawned on me. I had to dispose of the full trap. I am fully aware that the mouse inside of the trap is dead. Yet I hesitated. I got my readers to make sure the trap was indeed showing as caught and not just sprung. Nope, the flag was impossible to misinterpret. Now I had to pick this up and put it in the garbage. I can't tell you how long I stood there struggling with this seemingly simple task. I just could not bring myself to touch the trap. I felt stupid. I kept listening for the horse's hooves pounding up the driveway, bringing someone to save me from this task. Needless to say, I closed my eyes, grabbed the trap with two fingers, held it at arms length and walked it out to the trash can in the garage. Gee. I can hardly wait to see what I catch tomorrow morning. I get to do this all over again.
The good news is that the traps work. The better news is that I can summon the fortitude to do disgusting tasks all by myself. That's not keeping me from wishing for a knight, but it makes me self sufficient until he decides to arrive. Typical man got lost on the way to my house and refuses to ask directions.....
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