Me, The Mouse, and My Pasta Keeper

Did I tell you about my thing with mice?  If you have one as a pet, stop reading right now.....

I hate mice and it all started when we owned our first older home.  The neighbour two doors down was a hoarder and had a home filled with newspapers and lumber.  His yard and garage was no different so you can imagine thousands of square feet of house and yard perfect for breeding mice.....

When our next door neighbour's cat was killed by some idiot driving too fast in the alley, the mouse problem turned ugly.  All of us had dozens of mice in our home in the fall.  It was this vicious cycle of trapping, killing, disposing, waiting for more.  And since we had a dog we didn't get one of those ultra-sonic devices. How I hated those critters that invaded my house and made a mess in my pantry.  We never won and every autumn we succumbed to their rampage.  Oh how I hated them.

Okay, fast forward 5 years through a few international moves, and into our second older home.

We have a compost heap on the side of our house, but it was housed in a rickety old wooden box.  When I saw a lady selling her new composter, I jumped at the chance to upgrade on a dime.  When I brought it home and was transferring my compost from my old pile to the more secure newer one, I disrupted a colony of mice.

It was so gross as those vermin scattered, some even over my feet.
But worse was the realization that if they weren't getting food from my compost any more, they would most likely move indoors......

The next day Carl left for another work trip and lo! and behold what do you think I discovered the following day. Mice had made a mess in my pantry.  I was so angry and frustrated because everyone knows how leaky old houses are and everyone knows how evil mice are at infiltrating homes.  It was like I was a sitting duck and couldn't do anything about it.

Okay, get a plan Kathy, get a plan.  Because this time, you will not fail. *insert maniacal laugh*

So I bought some heavy duty traps and those ultra-sonic devices to plug into the kitchen.  I wanted to buy poison, but the clean up wasn't something I would want to deal with.  But I didn't plug the sonic devices into the pantry because it read, "won't kill mice, only deter," and I wanted to kill them.  Kill them all.

I plugged in the devices into the kitchen and entrance to chase them into the pantry and set the trap in the box holding the honey graham crumbs.  I went to bed in anticipation of finding death in my pantry the next morning.  Well, that's not what I found.

At 6 am I went downstairs and took a look in the trap.
Nothing.  And then I heard a sound.

In the box with the other trap was a mouse.
Not dead, but very much alive and bloodied.
Panic.  Adrenaline.  Anger.  A bit of puke in my mouth.
What am I going to do?  It's not like I can call someone.  Carl's not here.  I have to deal with this myself.  How in the world do you trap an injured mouse?
Oh, the angst!

I tried not to move and startle him.  Would he see me and jump out of the box?  And then freak me out only to die in the wall where the stench of his rotting body would remind me of my failure?  No, I have to finish him.

I looked for a sturdy, see-through container to capture him.  But there was nothing.  
Arg!  Where is a ___________ when I need one?!
More panic.  Some tears of frustration.  Finally I spotted something that might work.

My Pasta Keeper.
Long so I wouldn't have to get my hand too close to the vermin.
See-through so I could see him.
Sturdy to crush him to death.

I reached over ever so gently and then SLAM! on to the box to trap him.  Blasted! I missed!  I slammed it down again and again watching him dart all over the box.  Quickly I moved to destroy him before he got out.  And then one final slam and I caught him on his back.  He squealed and at that moment of triumph, I could hardly see from the surge of adrenaline.  I held the holder hard against his body and grabbed the box with the other hand.

Oh for pity's sake!  I forgot to open the back door.  C'mon Kathy, where's the forethought in the plan?  Now what are you going to do?  Just stand here?

I was able to maneuver the box on the floor and still hold the mouse in place while I opened the back door.  Out I dashed with my kill to the back yard and threw down the box.  The limp, lifeless body covered in honey graham crumbs and blood gave me such satisfaction and relief.  But not enough left in me to take care of the body.  The box stayed where it was until Carl came home.

I wiped my brow as I took the pasta keeper inside and threw it into the dishwasher to be prepared for the next time.....