I didn't know anything about living with mice until 11 years ago when I bought this old house. The house has a rear entry and the back wall is all wood with lots of cracks for mice to come in. I would never have believed that mice could make themselves so skinny. They can squash their bones and go through the tiniest of openings.
I remember the first time I ever heard of mice in a house. My neighbours out in the country had them. They had three cats. We had a dog. We never saw or heard a mouse except once a year when we dug out our barbeque from the shed. The mice had been living in it and made the cutest little nest in one corner and the toilet in the other. Very neat mice we thought. And cute too. We oohed and aahed. How wonderful!
When, Tiina, my youngest daughter, went away to school, she shared a part of a house with roommates. As winter settled in so did a mouse in their house. It came to sit on top of the stove. They thought he was really cute with his little paws and super big ears. They named him Jackson. One day, they had a friend come over, who obviously knew more about mice than they did. He said you better get rid of it or it will soon be Jackson Five. And it was. My daughter had never dealt with such cruelty before. Her roommate got a trap. Jackson or one of his offspring landed in it. But didn't die. It was just caught in the trap, shouting for mercy, and dragging and bouncing the trap all over the kitchen. It was around midnight that night and I received a phone call from Tiina. She was crying so loudly I thought someone had died. Nope. Just her mouse in the trap who didn't. Every suggestion I gave of what to do, put it outside, kill it, etc., was met with dismay. So she put a heavy bowl over it so it wouldn't drag the trap all over the house and keep them up. Well, didn't that little bugger live even the next morning. I can't remember what finally happened to it. All in all it was traumatic. For everyone. It is a dilemma. It was a life that ended by violence.
So, here I am in my cute little house with mice ~ every year! We have tried keeping them out with steel wool jammed in the cracks, mint planted in pots around the foundation. We've tried scaring them out by banging on the floor and ceiling or wherever we heard them chewing. And chew they do. And it's really loud. It sounds like a dog munching kibble. We've tried trapping them live so we could send them off to the neighbours house to live. Impossible to get them in the trap. Or maybe they know how to go back and forth and only pick up the deposit of fresh food. We even put a little of that poison seed out. I stopped using straw as mulch. I've done a special ceremony asking them not to step into my house. All to no avail. So we set out traps. The new plastic kind that kill instantly. That works. It's their karma. I've told them to stay out.
Last year, Felix (now I know why we gave our dog a cat's name) caught two of them while we were out. They lay side by side on the floor near the entrance and when we came home Felix solemnly carried them to the back yard. Good boy!
This morning I heard a mouse somewhere in the bedroom. Near the closet. Probably the mama getting good bedding for her soon-to-be babies. The movie, The Mouse Hunt, used to make me laugh. It's all too real now. :)
Here is our mouser on duty.
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