"Are you sure that's what you saw?"
Yes, my teenager was sure. I remember my husband setting traps ten years ago when we'd seen a little brown mouse charge in from the garden. We'd left our glass door open. And the traps snapped on the necks of the little gullibles who'd gone for the sliver of cheese. My husband swung the furry things at me and got a kick out of my scream.
But this time is different. I can't set traps. Doing laundry down in the cellar, I turned to see a sudden brown beady eye. I gasped, grabbed a plastic bucket, and escorted the very tiny critter out to the garden, where I sincerely hoped some predator would consume it in one gulp.
Today the exterminator came with his orange labels, his plastic boxes, his bait that looks tasty and "contains anti-coagulants."
"They'll dry out," he explains, "but they won't stink." The only thing, he adds cautiously, is that you might, say, find one in a corner. Or pull out a book from the shelf only to discover a desiccated critter.
"But, ewwww," I say.
He smiles. Mr. Experience. I remembered a song of my youth:
I'd forgotten all about that cartoon/song--and it's so perfect for my cat. Good luck!!
ReplyDeleteMaybe a cat is what I need . . .but a hypoallergenic super mouser? An inexpensive one? Where would I find such a being?
ReplyDeleteIf mice smell a cat, they vamoose. Also, spray peppermint oil mixed in water around all doors, etc, as mice hate that.
ReplyDeleteWe had 3 cats in the house when I was growing up, but no mice except the ones the cats brought home as trophies to be left on the front porch. I only found out I was seriously allergic to cats when I spent three months in Europe the summer I turned 18.
ReplyDeleteI usually Google "Melpub's Blog" to catch up with you, and I find it, but now Google is asking me, "Did you mean: male pubes blog?" I think not, I say, clutching my pearls.
Eek, a male pube! Just Google The Critical Mom and I'll try to serve up something interesting.
ReplyDelete