The 2 Month Long Battle

The invasion has begun.

The army that would like to conquer, chew and destroy has already sent at least 2 sentinels. We know they are still in the area because we have seen some evidence of their presence. Early one morning, Tim actually saw them but as it was 6:00AM and he was moving a little slowly, he was unable to track them down.

You'd think they'd learn. You'd think their fathers and mothers, grandpas, grandmas, aunts, uncles and cousins would have let them know that although they might find food in certain locations, they would eventually meet their demise at this house.

And so we begin the battle yet again. I pull out my arsenol, all nicely packaged together in a plastic bag. Death Traps, check. Sticky traps, check. Poison, check (Yes Yvonne. Your dear doggy Buddy didn't eat it all last year.) Humane traps (I still can't understand why my own husband would buy a mouse trap that allows the rodent to live so that it can be released-back into my house!) A plug-in thingy that apparently makes noise that only a mouse can hear. I think this one particularly takes the cake as I'm convinced that the sound attracts rather than repels them. By the way. If I can hear the sound does that mean I'm a mouse?

I suppose that you can't really blame the poor critters. It's getting cold outside and like us humans, they like to live at ease, where the food is plentiful and the temperature is comfortable. They get all of this in my house. I have been told that I have a gift for hospitality and the mice seem to sense this. The food can easily be found in the bedrooms of certain residents of this abode, in the family room couch or under the fridge and stove in the kitchen. Mice really don't need much to keep them going-chocolate bar wrappers, cracker crumbs, even empty slurpee cups can seem like a feast to a cold and hungry mouse. We even leave nesting material around for them like clothes, blankets or paper on the floor. Last year, they spent some time in Carolina's boots but then decided to take up residence in her gym bag because the food and clothes, readily available, were preferable to the footwear. (She absolutely refused to wear those boots again.)

The first year we moved into this house we caught 17 mice in the fall. We had never had mice in any previous homes so we were unprepared for this onslaught and it was too late when we finally began fighting back. I think that was the year that word got around in the mouse community that our house was party central.

But I've learned. Joey, my nephew frequently tells the story when "auntie Linda killed 4 baby mice on the stairs with a toilet plunger." Actually it was a toilet brush and it was 5 mice (but who's keeping track anyway). As sickened as I was about this brutal murder, I just knew that if I didn't get them when I saw them, I'd be battling with their offspring in a few months. And boy do they know how to procreate.

Today, I can say with a measure of certainty that I am smarter than a mouse. I have discovered tricks that will get a mouse every time or at least most times. This year, I'm ready. I've got traps loaded with my prefered ammo-peanut butter. I've laid them out in strategic locations and eagerly look forward to asking Wes or Tim to check the traps every morning before they leave for work. (I am a fairly independent, liberated woman. But when it comes to emptying mouse traps, I believe that it is a man's job. Both Wes and Tim are willing to do this rather unpleasant job.)

So, the battle will continue until the snow falls or things freeze up around here. But I'm ready. Bring 'em on. I'll take care of 'em. Maybe they'll be smarter than their forefathers and foremothers and tell the younger generation that the neighbour's house is far more appealing.