Monday, November 4, 2013

To My Little Mouse Friend

I've been living in my gingerbread house for the better part of a year now. While it has its charms (like snow coming in the walls), it has been a pretty okay place to stay. Plus, I haven't been moving every three months, and my landlord rocks.

Meanwhile, while we've been here, each night, there's a scratching deep within the walls that clearly says, "Something lives inside here!" When I sit on the couch, I can hear it run over top of my head and it scares me to death.

A lonely sugar wafer. Our little friend
loved sugar.
A few weeks ago, my roommate told me he'd found two mice nests with little babies inside. He put them outside, checked on them the next day. They were gone. I assumed that their mama found them and now they're living somewhere happy. He maintains they were probably eaten.

Then one night, I was sitting on the stairs chatting with my roommate while Baxter and Kyla played tug-of-war. From my right side I saw movement. Sure enough it was a tiny mouse going after my mint oreos. I screamed, he screamed, he ran, I screamed more. 

My roommate and I more fully began discussing getting a live trap so we could catch the little guy and send him packing without killing him. A few mornings later, however, I woke up. Fed the dogs, and just before I went to leave, I remembered I hadn't checked their water. 

I stood on my toes, and there, in the water bowl was a floating mouse.

Needless to say, I couldn't stop screaming and my roommate had to take care of our little dead friend.

I'm sad because I hate finding live mice in the house. I know they'll die in here and I'll have to deal with their small adorable bodies. Realistically, I just don't like things dying because it makes me sad.

So here's to my dead little mouse friend: may you rest in piece with as much sugar and oreos as you can stand.


  1. Wow, curiosity not only killed the cat, but also the mouse. I've never had to deal with mice inside luckily. When I was a kid, my mom had mousetraps sometimes, but we lived on the edge of town, so it was the field mice that were probably trying to get in during the winter. I remember putting cheez whiz or peanut butter on them. (Okay, my mom did, not me.) Luckily, it wasn't an ongoing problem though.

    Hope your little mice friends take the hint and move on to somewhere else.

    This makes me wonder. I'm pretty sure a mouse would not drown in my dog's bowl, being she's a 16 pound poodle mix. But you on the other hand have big dogs, right? So how big are your dogs' bowl? Is it pretty deep?


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