Wednesday, November 17, 2010

wherein i take on mice (while showing great respect for their humanity)

oh, mice. what are we going to do with you. the sound of mice in one's's a little what i imagine to be the exact sound scritching through a brain on the verge of a nervous breakdown. ever since our wild little ghetto cat mae was "relocated," the mouse community in our drafty old north side farmhouse (built circa 1887) have experienced a period of unprecedented celebration and bounty. my feeling about this is about 60% NOT IN MAH HOUSE, B-WORD (animal droppings in the me a stickler but i've always been team no on that one and always will be) and 40% bleeding-heart mouse empathy. ever since having sho (ok, it might go back a little further than that), my dang ole heart is so tender i don't even want to consider the live trap/relocation option because it would mean BREAKING UP MOUSE FAMILIES. i just can't do it, especially since it's getting closer to the brutal cold of a michigan winter. i'll admit that my mouse knowledge is shaky but i imagine wild mice do some sort of hibernation or fall foraging to prepare for our hardest season, and releasing a north side house mouse to the wilds this close to winter seems like glorified murder. yeah, i said it: GLORIFIED MURDER! my wish for the mouse community of our home is ideally that they would take up residence in a nearby mouse-friendly outbuilding of some sort and have themselves a cozy holiday season. i would even be happy to hand-deliver a pleasing mouse treat to their doorstep every now and again if it meant they never darkened my kitchen's door again, although i suppose it's doubtful i'd be able to find a mouse/human relations lawyer to facilitate this agreement. google tells me that cotton balls soaked in peppermint oil does the trick for humane mouse eradication, and i'm hoping it's true. these mice better bring their A games 'cause i'm about to BRING IT (peacefully and respectfully, of course)...

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