The tide began to turn when Rebecca noticed the droppings appearing on the counter. Hearing those sweet words, "I think you may be right..." At first, a wave of relief spread over me as I realized I was not in fact, losing my ability to distinguish reality from my dreams. Then, an incredible rush of "I told you so's" and wanting to rub it in that my theory of the midnight mouse was indeed true. And then, total disgust as it dawned on us that we have a rodent problem in our apartment. The hunt was on.
The first night of trapping: Mouse 1, Keith 0. The trap was licked clean without ever tripping it. So that's how it's gonna be. He wasn't so crafty the second night (pictured), although he somehow still managed to get all of the peanut butter. And so began the game of Keith and Mouse. Right now I'm sitting at a 50% success rate. Last night's capture was an ugly scene. He (hey, it could be a she I suppose) was killed alright, but not in the way it's supposed to go down. Two traps in the cupboard, one was released with no mouse and the other trap... Well, the little bugger got nailed across its body and then dragged itself around the cast iron pan (setting off the other trap in the process??) and then died a slow death, unable to escape back to the outside as it slowly lost the ability to breathe as its organs were crushed. Not exactly the most humane death, and one that I'm not super proud of either. But, his noble run-for-it allowed me to see that there is a break in the cupboard underneath, a large gap in the carpentry, allowing our little uninvited pests to come through every night.
I will admit that I am again, both incredibly giddy, yet appalled with each successful execution. I'm kind of a wuss, no doubt about that. I just have this fear that when releasing the trap, the mouse will awake or resurrect and enact its fierce revenge upon me and my household. It'll simply run off and leave me searching for it, squealing like a little girl in the process. I'll never forget the paralyzing terror I experienced in college when working on a term paper in the basement of our house, when I saw a mouse run within inches of my fully exposed feet under the desk. I was rescued by our spastic yellow Labrador Bailey, who sprung into action and captured it in her mouth and brought it upstairs before dropping it into a shoe - which we promptly tossed outside.
And so, with each kill I am becoming, little by little, a little more manly. Last year on internship, I sought to up my personal macho factor by facing another fear: bats. On one occasion, a bat had infiltrated the church, and swooping around, he sent everyone into a panic. While screaming on the inside, I played it cool on the outside and went after the bat, eager to face it in what I envisioned would be an epic John Candy/Dan Ackroyd re-enactment of their bat battle in "The Great Outdoors." Then the confirmation kids showed up and ruined my moment. Here I was, city boy Keith, creeping up on this freaky, gross and rabies causing little winged creature, ready to catch him in a coat and release him outside. With smart phones out capturing all the action on video, this little thing continued to have its way with his hunters. Then, pausing long enough for me to make my move, this 7th grade farm boy, who's dealt with hundreds of vermin in his young lifespan, just walks over to the bat and slaps it to the ground and steps on it. I was angry on so many levels - mostly at myself and my cowardice. Then, upon learning that killing a bat is actually illegal in Minnesota, I was a tad miffed that he had so callously ended this bat's life without hesitation.
Well, the winter looks to be long, giving me plenty of chances to man-up to mice and kill with reckless abandon. Perhaps by day seven I will be able to remove the mouse without using a plastic bag as a glove. Part of me wants to set up a hidden, night vision camera to study how they manage to get away half of the time. Another part of me wants to fill in the hole and block their passage altogether. I'm still curious how they ever got up onto the counter. The mystery continues...
No comments:
Post a Comment