If you build a better mousetrap, you will catch better mice.  ~George Gobel

Me holding Rascals c. 1993

This is ironic, I keep writing about mice, yet my affection for them them is very much less than favorable.  In fact, mice in my opinion reside in the revolting and antipathy category.  Regardless, I need to sing my praises of another successful trophy over my mantel, even though it’s not quite what you’d expect.  At least I was completely thrown off of my game.

I’ve said it before and I believe it to be true, the neighborhood mice are picking on me!  I don’t get it, recently I haven’t had much food in the house.  Also my little corner of the world is very clean, I mean bleach clean.  My house is kept  junk and clutter free, I’m pretty much a minimalistic.  So let’s take inventory.  I have no food, a very clean clutter free house and I have a cat.  Why would any mouse decide to take refuse in my personal domain?  The only thing I know to be reality is that I am like my parents and I tend to come and go with the door hanging wide open.  Ok, note to self, learn to keep the door shut, especially after this last episode.

This mouse was haunting me for over a month.  What is really strange, is that I never saw the mouse before or after Storm had it cornered under my dresser.  Coincidentally, that was the same time one of my mouse sticky pads went missing, still never found it!  A few weeks ago I kept finding what I thought were mouse droppings in the strangest places.  On the backs of my couch and chair, my window seal in the living-room, and even on my window seal behind my bed.  I don’t even want to discuss the few that were on my sheets.  Ever since that incidence, it became my nightly ritual to change my sheets and check everywhere before I laid my head down.  It didn’t even look like the mouse was even in my kitchen.  What is wrong with this mouse?

Rascals playing with Dad… just like a cat

One weekend after being away, I came back to a ton of crap, literally crap on my furniture and window seals.  Keep in mind Storm was with me so it wasn’t like she was sleeping on the job. I couldn’t take it!  This meant war.  By this time, I think I had already used up an entire can of Lysol disinfecting everything.  What am I to do?  My dilemma resided in the fact that I couldn’t set out certain traps, for fear Storm would get hurt.  So late, that Sunday night I went to the store and purchased about a dozen of those hockey puck shaped plastic traps that the mouse is suppose to enter and die.  My logic, I’ll have those set out everywhere all the time and when Storm and I go to my parents, I’ll set the deadly traps.  My kitchen looked like a mind field, but I didn’t care.  I was at war and I was determined to win.

Would you believe I checked those traps a couple of times a day and nothing!  The only thing those traps were doing was entertaining my cat!  Apparently she thought I bought her toys to push around the kitchen.

On a side note, if I did believed in reincarnation, I know I can’t come back as a cat.  I am such a horrible mouse catcher!

Now the ultimate test, go away for a few days and leaving out those small sticky pads.  My plan was to leave for the weekend, actually from Thursday to Sunday, since I took off work on Friday to go mentor hunting Deer Hunter, Kyle’s First Deer, with Kyle and dad.  Would you believe, when I got back to my house there was more evidence of the varmint, but no physical body?  I can’t even describe in words how ticked off I was!  Poor Kyle, he was trying to help me disinfect my house and clean up.  He even found one of the sticky pads with hair on it that was partially under the refrigerator.  Now at least, I know I was not loosing my mind, there really was something in the house.  I guess it was a bionic mouse to get out of a trap like that!

Me introducing Jake to the new kittens

What really had me seeing red was my new discovery.  As I opened my refrigerator door, I noticed the light didn’t come on and a wall of warm air hit me.  What?  The stupid beast destroyed my refrigerator?  It did!  This was it, I was at my whits end!  First of all I hate mice with such a passion, and now one was completely terrorizing me and destroying major appliances?  In my own house?  Not right!

That week I went back to the store and decided to get the really big sticky pads and the snap traps.  I was still going to hold my ground and take back my house.  All week long, I cursed at those hockey puck shaped discrete mouse traps.  I kept going on, on how bad they sucked and didn’t work.  Whenever I described the mouse to my sister I would say, “I must have the smartest mouse of its kind in my house!  It’s like a super mouse or a bionic mouse.”  On another side note, every time I discussed the mouse I felt like I was reading from a Dr. Seuss book!  Kinda funny.  Nicole just laughed and suggested that I get an exterminator.  I’ve seen Billy the Exterminator on TV, all they would do is exactly what I was already doing.  Nope this is my war and it will be my victory!

Nicole feeding Rascals as a baby. Her eyes weren’t even open yet…I don’t Nicole’s were either….

By now I’ve learned my opponents movements pretty well.  I know the popular areas of interest and when that critter surfaces.  Now it was time to set the bait.  The following weekend, I made sure the house was unoccupied, but before I did so I set out a bunch of large sticky pads, a bunch of spring traps loaded with peanut butter and I bought some plastic traps containing poison cubes inside to allow the mouse to die within.  Of course let’s not forget the half a dozen plastic hockey shaped mouse traps.  It looked like an active war zone.  I was prepared and this battle was on my home turf, victory was in sight.

To be honest I was skeptical.  Actually, I made the same comment to several people, “If I don’t have a trophy over my mantel by Sunday night then I will seriously put my house up for sell and I’m moving out.  I can’t take this anymore.”  You know what?  I was being very serious.  I know it sounds a bit extreme, but if this was going to be an ongoing problem, then it was one I choose not be apart of.

Three baby raccoons… only Rascals survived

Well as Sunday night rolled around, I planned on having Kyle with me, but alas I didn’t.  No worries, I became callous to the idea of dealing with a dead mouse.  In fact, I was looking forward to this nightmare to end.  As I entered the dark house, I instantly looked at the trap set by the door and the ones in close proximity, while turning on the lights.  I examined my living-room and headed back the hallway to check the few miscellaneous traps.  Nothing!

To be honest, at that point, it’s a little bittersweet.  I really don’t want to clean up a corpse but then again I don’t want to know there is still a mouse running around my house.  Just as I walked around my chair and headed into the kitchen, there it was, with its head trapped in a snap trap pushed onto a sticky pad!  Instead of getting grossed out, or cheering with victory I was somewhat flabbergasted.  I literally had to do a second and third glance, blink a few times and cautiously approach the prisoner.  I didn’t catch a mouse, like a normal person would.  Nope, I caught a chipmunk!  Yes, I caught Alvin!

At that moment I had a rush of thoughts that hit me all at once, allowing me to make sense of the actions that lead up to this point.  The crap on the chairs, which were near a window; the crap on the windows seals, which were incidentally by a window with the blinds partially up for Storm to gaze out; the reason why my small mouse traps never caught a mouse; the reason Storm was never able to kill the rodent; the ability for the animal to take down a major appliance.  It all came together!  I had no idea I was living with Alvin!  More importantly when did Alvin move in?  Well, the only important focus of this story was that he was dead!  Upon closer inspection I found out that he put up a fight before meeting his untimely death.  There were two snap traps set off and a few sticky pads moved around.  But ultimately I won this battle!

After all the shock wore off I called my sister to tell her I wasn’t moving out and I have a prize trophy.  She said, “You caught a chipmunk?  Heather that’s disgusting!”  I retorted, “I’d rather have a chipmunk on my furniture than a mouse.  I actually don’t feel so dirty now.  I’m happy knowing this.”

Since then, my house seems untouched by all creators that move around under cover of darkness.  At least that’s what I tell myself, it helps me sleep at night.  I hope since I killed Alvin, Simon and Theodore aren’t plotting revenge on me.

Read more on my encounters with mice
Of Mice and Me…
Of Mice and Me…Part 2
Of Mice and Me…Part 3

It doesn’t matter if a cat is black or white, so long as it catches mice.  ~Deng Xiaoping

Cowboy Kyle…he loved that hat (courtesy of Uncle Sonny)

My disdain for mice is no secret!  I have no clue why I have such an aversion to those little rodents, but I do!  I’ve never really liked mice, but since a certain incidence occurred, when Pudd’in caught a live mouse and brought it into my bed to play with, while I was “asleep”, I can’t deal with the squirrelly rodents.  Let’s face it I don’t do mice!  Anyway, why am I rehashing my terror again?  Because I have another mouse!

First, I want to call out that I have no idea why the mice are picking on me.  Yes I believe they have a list of houses they want to infiltrate for one reason or another and my invasion has the goal to simply torture me!  Granted, I know everyone who has lived, has had a security breach with a mouse in their living quarters, at least most people.  And those who have not, AMEN!  Good for you!  I envy you, big time!  Being aware, that I have a pretty good life, I am also aware this single mouse spotting could be worse.  I don’t sleep on a dirt floor with flies swarming around my face and rats climbing over me as I sleep.  That would give me a complete meltdown.  But now my mouse saga continues.

This past week, as I stepped through my threshold of my castle, Storm didn’t greet me.  What?  She always runs to the door to see me, just like Scooby and Seven, but alas this time no Storm.  I called her and she was nowhere to be found, even after looking in the living-room and the kitchen.  Initially, I thought ‘She must be fast asleep’.  To be honest, I wanted to wake her up and surprise her.  Well, she got the last laugh when I walked into my bedroom, my private, secure, safe haven of a room, where I found Storm creeping low beneath the edge of the my dresser.  Instantly, I recognized the position of her body, and the flick of her tail, she was in hunting mode!  O crap!  Just then I saw the movement of something small under the dresser as Storm pounced side-to-side trapping the living squeaky animal.  Yikes!!  What to do?  I had to leave with her, but I didn’t want the mouse running around my house, but I didn’t want Storm to catch it alive, but I didn’t want a dead mouse in my house.  This is where I thought, ‘How can I train my cat to catch and kill a mouse without a mess and throw the deceased rodent in the trash and never speak of it again?”  I’m seriously working on that.

Did I mention, while I was trying to come up with an immediate solution, I heard the mouse squeaking?  Gross!  Storm must have sank her razor sharp claws into the large problem, which happens to came in the form of a tiny package.  Gross! Gross! Gross!

Chad holding a lion (Kyle). First Halloween – outfit courtesy of Aunt Nikki 10/2002

Well, until I train storm to be the terminator I needed to resolve this.  I retrieved a few of those sticky pads I had purchased from the last mouse incidence and strategized how this was going to work.  First, I put the one sticky pad down, while I was reaching for Storm.  I didn’t want her to get stuck in the gunk.  Then, as I was holding her, I placed another sticky pad down on the other side of the dresser, all while watching to make sure I wasn’t going to get jumped by the invader.  For a grande finally, I placed one in the hallway, leading out of the bedroom.  I was pretty sure I covered all bases.  Of course I didn’t have a choice in the matter, since I laid down all ammunition that I had on hand.

Storm and I exited stage right.  After I got situated in the car, I called my mom.  When a stressful situation like this one surfaces, always defer to mom.  As I was explaining the events that just unfolded, aside from wanting her to stop laughing at me and my phobia, I wanted her to come up to my house, once she got Kyle off of the bus, and defuse the situation.  Unfortunately, she didn’t have enough time.  Really?  Whatever!

Ok, so it looks like I’m going to have to face my fears and deal with it like an adult.  Even thought I did ponder the idea of asking friends of mine, I decided it was my problem.   When Kyle and I managed to get back to my house it was dark.  Incidentally, neither one of us can handle mice, we looked like the ‘geeked out’ leading the ‘grossed out’.  As we creeped inside, I realized I couldn’t let Storm run free, not with the sticky pads placed on the floor.  I barricaded her in my office with the closed door.  The entire time, she meowed and she exposed her paws out from under the threshold.  Kyle and I were both laughing.  We even started to play with her paws as they poked out and extended the width of the door.  Minor distraction before we got down to business.  We first checked the trap in the hallway, nothing.  Then we proceeded to move into my room.  At this point I was torn, I wanted to see a dead mouse in the trap, but then again I didn’t.  I just wanted to rid my house of mice FOREVER, if that’s even possible.

Kyle’s first Halloween outfit. I was the lion tamer. 10/2002

Immediately, I saw one sticky trap, which contained a bug but no mouse.  Ok, so in my mind the last sticky tab contained the mouse and it was under my dresser.  Good?  I guess, again in my mind I just wanted to end this.  I grabbed the flashlight and headed back to the bedroom.  At that point I asked Kyle to get down and look under the dresser.  He just gave me a look of ‘Ya right’ and then said, “Umm why don’t you?”  I responded, “Cause you need to help me.  Nothing is going to jump out and get you.”  I must have been convincing because he approached the dresser with the flashlight in hand before turning back to me saying, “I just can’t!”  Logic must have taken over Kyle and he realized, I could be doing this and not him, so I did.  What do you think I saw?  Nothing!  Well that’s not entirely true, I found a photograph that somehow found its home under my dresser but nothing else.  No mouse, but also no sticky tab.  What?

Now at this point, fear and disgust was replaced by frustration and curiosity.  Where did the other sticky pad go?  Then Kyle and I went on the search.  One, because I didn’t want a dead mouse lying around somewhere, and two, I didn’t want Storm to find the sticky pad.  Kyle and I searched high and low.  Nothing!  We literally searched the entire house, under furniture, behind things, in closets.  Nothing!  I went even as far as to go to my basement and inspect everything.  Nadda!  No mouse, dead or alive and no black sticky pad.  Are you kidding?  My nightmare just went into limbo, into something worse…the unknown.  This is killing me!

I seriously must have the smartest mice ever!  This one pulled a Houdini on all of us.  No traces of a mouse, anywhere!  Once I got over my shock, I started to second guess myself, thinking I only put out two traps, when I knew very well I put out three.  While Kyle was there I didn’t make the missing trap into a big deal, only because I didn’t want Kyle to worry.  He would stress about Storm’s safety and I didn’t want the kid to feel afraid to walk around my house.  But the truth is, I was concerned!  Did the mouse pick up the trap and exit the house never to return?  Did it place the pad somewhere to catch me?  Was it waiting till I was fast asleep ready to place the sticky side down on my face all in the name of revenge?

I tried to put those thoughts out of my head and focus on my little man, not my little problem.  Kyle is too funny.  After we gave up, I gathered my trash to take out to the curb.  As I was heading outside, Kyle stopped me and said, “Aunt Heather where are you going?” with a very stressed out voice.  I told him, “To take the garbage out.”, while I displaying the overly stuffed trash bag.  He said, “You’re just going to leave me in here?”  He was mortified and I couldn’t help but laugh.  I will admit I would have been leery too, if I was alone after that anti climatic mystery ending to this story, but he is just so funny.  I said, “Kyle, nothing is going to come out charging you, besides you have the best weapon, Storm and her razor sharp claws.”  Immediately as the words fell from my mouth, he looked toward Storm and made the motion to pick her up, before she ran away from him.

After the evening settled down, my next biggest concern was sleeping.  I have a fear of Storm (any cat really) bringing a mouse, dead or alive and placing it in bed with me while I sleep.  Some may say my imagination is going a rye.  Not really, it actually happened!  I lived to tell the tale and I have never recovered from that nightmare.  I understand that, that’s the greatest honor for a cat, to bring their owner a live mouse, but I’m good.  I don’t need presents.  I don’t need the cat to prove themselves to me.  I don’t need to know they killed the enemy, as long as I don’t see it.

Believe it or not, the mystery is unsolved.  I started to clean out corners of the house, searching everywhere, but have found nothing.  If anyone would find the missing weapon, I would think it would be Storm, but she’s come up empty too.  On a side note, to make me feel better, I want to call out that my house is spotless.  Aside from getting behind on dusting, it is clean!  In fact, I haven’t really had any food in the house.  My refrigerator is bare, and I mean empty!  I’ve been meaning to hit up the grocery store, but haven’t had the chance.  So what is so interesting about my house?  How are they coming in?  What else can I do to keep mice out?  HELP!

Read more on my encounters with mice
Of Mice and Me…
Of Mice and Me…Part 2

Reality leaves a lot to the imagination.  ~John Lennon

Me, Kyle and Gigi

In my mind, not finding that mouse and knowing it was loose somewhere in my house was as bad as the rat scene in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.  The part where he descends down a tunnel under the museum.  Do you remember the one with all the rats running around?

I know I was going to bring in reinforcements and call the exterminator but, believe it or not, that grossed me out too.  Just thinking of the exterminator poisoning the mouse, or whatever way they deal with these situations, didn’t sit well with me either.  Ideally what I wanted was for the mouse to see the exit sign and proceed through the door.  I’m usually a realist but sometimes I can dream big.

My temporary solution, which I could live with, was to place more traps around the house.  I felt like a prisoner in my own home.  My house had turned into a landmine field of an eclectic assortment of mouse traps.  I wouldn’t curl up on my couch for fear of another attack.  When I sat in my chair, I felt like I was going to turn my head and find a mouse standing on the back of the chair.  I intentionally stomped my feet when I got up and walked around the house in hopes to keep the mouse at bay.

Me and Kyle on his first Halloween. Lion & lion tamer... I should have been a mouse tamer, I needed future practice.

The other day I was talking to my sister as I walked through the front door.  I walked into the kitchen to put away a few groceries and I swear I heard the mouse. I listened intently while Nicole was on the other line.  She said, “What do you hear?”  I said, “I’m not sure, but it sounded like squeaky noises.”  I made Nicole stay on the phone with me while I looked around.  I didn’t see anything, not even a trace of a mouse.  Although I will say I looked, but not REALLY looked.  I wanted to make sure I wasn’t losing my mind but, on the other hand, I didn’t want to actually see the mouse.  I was in a catch 22.  Then my sister informed me that I should be moving the traps around because, “Mice sense danger.”  What?  I said, “So let me get this straight, you want me to play musical chairs with the mouse traps everyday?”  She said, “Yes, then you will be able to catch it.”  Are mice really that smart?  My initial instincts were saying no, but I started to think differently, or should I say desperately.  I will admit I did move a couple of traps around, placing them in different corners.

This whole situation became one of those times when the imagination has overpowered reality.  Then over the next few days, I hadn’t noticed the mouse.  No traces of it at all, and I did look!  I don’t know what was worse, not seeing it or seeing it.  I must admit I had a hard time sleeping for fear it was going to crawl on me while I slept.

Well, when my mom mentioned she was going to be in my neighborhood, I took complete advantage of the situation.  I am ashamed to say, I sent my mom over to my house to check the mouse traps while I was at work.  Again, desperate times call for desperate measures.  Kyle was with my mom when they raided the mouse traps and, lo and behold, I received a call from Kyle informing me they got one.  Then Kyle had to add fuel to my fire by saying, “We caught at least one.” What? Was he implying there were more?  As fast as I was put at ease, I was put right back to my nightmare situation.

Well, I am happy to announce as of now, I am mouse free!  I meant it when I said I was going to bring in the big guns… my mom!

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…