Yes, we’ve had a mouse in the house. I saw evidence of a mouse in the pantry several months ago, and we tried a trap, but the trap did not work. We found it sprung a few times, but with no mouse inside. More recently, I found evidence of a mouse in other kitchen cabinets, and I went to buy more traps. This time, I thought I’d try glue traps. I didn’t know if they worked better or not, but I figured it was worth a try.
Sunday morning, I got up and went downstairs to let the dogs out. I needed the bathroom, so I just used the one downstairs by the kitchen. While I was in there, I heard something thumping and struggling against the pantry door. Ah ha! I thought. We must have caught that mouse, and he’s trying to get free from the trap.
It was then that I realized that I had no desire to open the pantry to see the mouse. I don’t want to deal with the mouse. I just want the mouse to go away. So I went back upstairs. Chef was still sleeping, but I figured the mouse was stuck, so it would be okay to wait until my husband woke up.
When he opened his eyes, I said, “I think we caught a mouse in the pantry! I need you to be the man and take care of it.” I kind of realized I was scared of it. Well, really more grossed out by it. My mom has no trouble just yanking a mouse out of a trap, throwing it into the woods, and resetting the trap. My mother is far more amazing than I will ever hope to be. I want someone else to take care of the mouse. Ick. And besides, Chef agreed to do it. Why be brave if I don’t have to be?
We went down to the kitchen together, and he opened the pantry. “Karen, there’s no mouse in the trap.” WHAT? Then what in the world was hitting the pantry door when I was in the bathroom? Weird. And a little freaky. And disappointing, too.
I went back upstairs to get ready for church, and Chef stayed in the kitchen to heat up some coffee. A few minutes later, I heard him exclaim “Dow! Dart! Gark! Sharg!” And he was stamping his foot on the floor. This is what he does when he’s hurt, and he’s trying not to swear.
“Honey, are you okay?”
Turned out, we did catch a mouse. Or rather, the mouse caught himself. On the door of the pantry, we have little wire shelves where we keep our spices. Apparently the mouse was trying to climb up the shelves, and he got his leg caught. He was on the pantry door. So when we opened the pantry to check the trap, Little Mousie was being very still, very scared, on the door. And we didn’t even think to look in the spice rack. (Silly us, we were looking in the mouse trap!) So Chef tried to grab the mouse out of the spice rack, and Little Mousie bit him. (This was the cause of the exclaimations and stamping.) Chef opened the utensil drawer and pulled out some tongs and grabbed Little Mousie with the tongs and put him in a bag.
“I’m going to take him to the shop and set him free,” Chef told me. “I’m not mad at him. I just don’t want him pooping next to our food.”
So he got in the car and drove to his shop, and let Little Mousie out of the bag. Little Mousie was apparently injured and probably very frightened; Chef said he just sat there on the concrete for a while. But when Chef checked on him later, Little Mousie was gone.
I just hope Little Mousie doesn’t find his way back to our house.
When I told a friend this story, she asked if I took photos of Little Mousie for the blog. The answer to that is no. Taking photos of the rodent who had been chewing through our bags of popcorn was not the primary thing on my mind when all these events occurred. So I’m deeply sorry if you were hoping for a picture of Little Mousie. But I’m not going to invite him back for a photo shoot.
Feel free to take pictures of him if he shows up at your house.