I have a very bad relationship with mice.  ~Casey Affleck

Me with my cats Vega and Deneb. c. 1990

In high school I had to read the book Of Mice and Men.  It was a good book, but the one main character, Lennie, and his infatuation with mice bothered me.  I still remember how grossed out I felt as I read that book.  In fact, Lennie holding the mouse is still what I remember most, even though I remember it was a sad story, I couldn’t get past the mouse.

No kidding, I really really really have this abomination for mice. I always have.  Living out in the country, every time it got cold outside, the mice always managed to find their way in the house.  Granted, I’ve always had cats, but sometimes they would play with a mouse and kill it slowly.  Meanwhile, I would hear the mouse’s squeak noises as it was dying.  One time, right out of high school, I was sleeping in my bed in my parents house, nice and cozy.  That was when my worst nightmare happened!  As I lay there in the pitch black, Pudd’in jumped up on my bed, which was not unusual since she always slept with me.  But it struck me as odd when her jumping had such swift quick movements all around the top of my blankets, which happened to be on top of me.  Just then, I felt a small scurry moving toward my face.  In that split second I jumped straight up out of bed and onto my desk.  I stood there and screamed bloody murder just as the covers were thrown all over the place.  I took a giant leap out my door and ran into the living room where I jumped up on the couch and screamed some more.  Ok, that probably wasn’t the most mature way of handling this, but it was in the middle of the night and I was woken by my age old nemesis who was in close proximity to my face.  Not to mention the invasion of my personal space.  Regardless, my mom came out to see what the heck was going on.  She wouldn’t go in the room to check out the situation, so I slept on the couch until mom inspected the scene of the crime the next day and helped me strip my bed.

We had Jill since we were little. She was a Christmas gift from my parents. Best dog! I used to call her my Jillybean.

I can’t even tell you how much I really truly hate mice!  Over the years I’ve had other encounters with mice, not quite as bad but in my mind all equal in nature.  Now, I am aware others have dealt with the occasional mouse in their homes, but I still can’t deal and I feel like it’s a direct attack against me.

At this moment I will digress, to put life in perspective.  I met a person a couple years ago who did missionary work.  I don’t remember where he lived but I remember what he told me.  He said they had rats running around and it wasn’t uncommon for them to crawl all over you as you slept.  He killed a bunch of them during his stay there.  Can you imagine!!  He instantly had my respect just for dealing with such a situation to spread the word of God.  I am ashamed to say, I would have been on the first plane to somewhere rat free, with or without missionary work to do.

I don’t particularly like moles and such either.  They all reside in the same category in my opinion as gross rodents I don’t want near me.  I’ve never even seen the movie Ratatouille.  You know, the Disney animated movie about a mouse in Paris who cooks.  I don’t care if it’s a cartoon, I don’t care if it takes place in Paris, and I don’t care if it’s fiction.  I want nothing to do with mice.

Kyle with his turtle, Tommy.

So why this sudden rant about mice?  Simple, I had another run in with a mouse.  A big one!  I did have a mouse in my house a few years ago, but I have been very lucky, until now.  Not long ago I was watching TV and a mouse came out of nowhere and ran across the floor.  I freaked!  I put out traps with cheese.  The snap kind of traps.  The next day the cheese was gone but the traps where not tripped.  So I had a friend of mine come over to look at the traps.  Just as we both suspected, the traps weren’t set correctly.  Ok, I’ll take that, I never claimed to be a mouse wrangler.  He reset the traps and, this time, put peanut butter on them.  Then the next day, all the peanut butter was eaten and no trap was tripped.  Not a one!!  I called him back over to my house because he couldn’t hardly believe himself.  He took a pen to see if the trap was set correctly and it snapped right away.  We were both beside ourselves.  I was instructed to get a few sticky traps, trying a new approach.  Yes, we finally got it, my friend came over and disposed of the corpse.  Victory!

Me playing with a couple of kittens.

I really didn’t have another problem until there was a really cold spell a few months ago, but the sticky traps did it.  I left a few around the house just in case.  I never saw any signs of a mouse again. Nothing! Until this past week.  I was sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket reading Steve Jobs.  The TV was on and I had just set my book down when, out of nowhere, a mouse ran across my lap and up the back of the couch.  Yes, up on the couch!!  First of all, I never heard of a mouse being so arrogant.  Are you kidding me?  Well needless to say, I jumped up, threw the covers and launched myself onto the loveseat.  I knew my parents were sleeping, so I called my sister screaming into the phone.  I was beside myself.  I was going to go to my parents house to sleep.  I just don’t understand how I keep getting these smart, bionic mice in my house!  They are not welcome but they don’t seem to care.  Not to mention I don’t know how they’re getting in.  All I can picture is a group of mice dressed in army fatigues hiding in the bushes outside my house, waiting for me to carry in groceries and sneak their way through the front door to set up camp in a lonely corner.

My raccoon Rascals. I LOVE raccoons!!

As my sister laughed at me, she had the audacity to say, “Do you have food laying around?”  What?  Are you kidding?  My house is spotless, and I mean spotless.  Not only is my house clean, but it is clutter free.  I hate clutter and I keep it tidy and I try to keep my stuff to a minimum.  Not to mention I don’t have anything sitting out on the counter such as bread.  My toaster is even put away in a cupboard!

Well I guess I must face the facts that I am at war and my enemy is winning.  I thought about bringing Pudd’in up to my house, but I’m afraid that will stress her out, especially with her heart condition.  What to do?  I guess the next step is to call for reinforcements and bring in the real soldiers: Exterminators.

To be continued…