A Mouse in My House

 

Mice are cute. Mice are darling. Otherwise, how does one explain their popularity in pop culture? From his modest beginnings in Steamboat Willie, Mickey Mouse has become an icon, representing one of the largest entertainment companies in the world. Mickey is one of dozens of mice that we’ve loved over the years. There’s Jerry of Tom & Jerry cartoons. And remember Pixie and Dixie who were featured in Hanna Barbera’s Huckleberry Hound Show? They always got the better of Mr. Jinks, proving that mice are smarter and more cuddly than cats. Famed children’s book author, E.B. White wrote about a mouse named Stuart Little, who became the basis for two feature films and an animated Stuart Little 3. And then there is Fievel Mousekewitz, the immigrant mouse, who stars in four animated features. Need I name more?

So why do I get upset when the weather turns cold, and the little critters seek the warmth of my house? I know they’ve entered my dominion when I notice the corner of a cracker box has been chewed. My wife announced their latest incursion when she spotted a few droppings on the kitchen floor.

“Are you sure those aren’t some kind of seeds,” I asked hopefully.

“Those are mouse turds,” she responded.

I suppose I should be grateful for mice rather than rats. On a recent visit to Georgetown, I was shocked to see those hideous creatures brazenly strolling through the bushes just a few yards away. I once spotted a rat climbing out of a sewer near our house and considered myself fortunate not to see one surface in one of our toilets.

But while I prefer mice to their larger cousins, I far prefer that the little rodents stay out of our house. When they do decide to venture into my domain, I don’t care if they are Stuart, Fievel, or Mickey. I am coming after them.

Enter the mousetrap in its various forms. I have tried several different types to see if someone has built a better mousetrap than the traditional spring-loaded trap that my father used. I’ve had some success in the past with the glue boxes. They also make glue pads, but who wants to see a mouse stuck and struggling to escape? At least the box hides the victim from sight. That didn’t keep our dog from tearing up a box containing a mouse, which turned out to be more of a gruesome mess than I cared to see. And while these glue traps are somewhat effective, I think it’s harsh to see a live mouse struggling to free himself while waiting for the inevitable end.

I’ve also tried bait stations which contain a block of poison which the maker claims “kills up to 12 mice.” For some reason, the mice that come into our house are not tempted by this “mouse killer” as the packaging describes it. From my perspective, I’m not crazy about the thought of a poisoned mouse dying in one of our walls or ceilings or finding its decomposing carcass in a corner of our basement.

I am aware of at least one mouse discharged by this method. As I sat in my kitchen, I heard a scratching noise coming from the area where I had placed a bait station. I got out of my chair to investigate, and literally screamed when I saw a live mouse nibbling at the bait. The mouse and I ran in opposite directions. After a few minutes, I heard that scratching sound again. This time I ignored it, hoping the bait would perform its magic. A day or two later, my 4-year-old granddaughter was watching TV when the mouse slowly staggered into the room, obviously affected by the poison. It moved slowly enough for me to run to the kitchen, grab a broom, and return to swat the critter. That was enough to send him to his maker, leaving me to sweep him into a dustpan while my granddaughter looked on in curiosity, if not horror.

So, if someone has built a better mousetrap, I have yet to discover it. I’ve dispatched more mice with my father’s style of mousetrap than any other. Unlike my father, I don’t reuse my traps, but rather, discard them mouse and all. Occasionally, a smart mouse will steal the bait without springing the trap. But I know if I persist, it will eventually succumb to the mercifully quick death delivered by the “original” mouse trap.

Armed with a 6-pack of these, I would warn Mickey to stay in Disney World. Because if you sneak into my house, Disney will be looking for a new mascot.