This won't be a long post, as I am on a mission. Well, I am really going hunting. Right, hunting. My house been invaded by a mouse, and since mouses like mooses seem to hang out together, I am betting that he (he is a stupid mouse, so I am going with "he") brought others of his ilk and family into my house.
I should have realized a bit sooner that I had house guests. I had a bag of Cheetos on my counter, and when I picked it up there was Cheeto dust on the counter and the bag was open. I blamed myself and my haste to eat those gourmet morsels. Then, I went to have toast and there was a mouse-size hole in the bread bag and a corresponding mouse-sized tunnel through about 8 slices of bread. Lastly I saw the tell tale droppings--on my counter no less!!! Yep, I have mice.
I suppose that it isn't a stretch to imagine as I kind of am in the country. But still, pooping on my counter? I have two bathrooms and an acre lot outside. It could have been more hygienic, you know. So I have declared war on mice. I bought a license, some camo-wear, and a 12 gauge shotgun, and some mouse traps of various types. The big hardware store near here had 8 different kinds of ways to hasten the demise of the rascels. I chose two kinds, sacrificed some peanut butter and cheese, set up my hunting blind and called the taxidermist for an advanced appointment.
And my hunt was successful albeit not that successful for one mouse. It really is kind of sad, and I am not so proud to say that the local mouse population has shrunk by one. I do worry of an influx of others. Maybe the tiny mouse hide nailed to the side of the house will deter others from entering but I am doubtful. As I was sitting here on my couch, I heard a slight clatter from my counter. I glanced over to the kitchen, and sure enough, a !@*&!*#&$ mouse was sitting there watching me. And I think she was laughing.
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