You can't sweat out . . .

Of mice and men

In Come on! on February 12, 2009 at 12:42 am

Unless you are extremely lucky, you have dealt with bad roommates.  Right now, I have at least two of the worst roommates I have ever had.  They steal my food, take dumps everywhere, and just generally cause a ruckus around the apartment.  Yes, I have tried talking to them, but it is hard to get the words out when I feel the urge to shriek like a little girl whenever I see them.  You see, the unwanted roommates are mice.

Something about our apartment breeds mice that are, sadly, smarter than us.  In the past year, we have caught three.  Two were released alive: one after being caught in a live trap, and I caught one by somehow outsmarting it and closing the pasta box it was in, then holding it shut while I walked outside saying “oh my god oh my god oh my god,” trying not to freak out.  Regrettably, the third died, apparently of starvation when he was caught in the live trap.  Our bad.

But our current tormentors have taken it to a whole new level.  Until a week or so ago, there seemed to be only one: the smallest mouse imaginable, about the size of your thumb.  Of course, we lovingly nicknamed him Fievel.  He became the honorary fourth roommate, and we were prepared to live and let live, at least for a while.  But then Fievel crossed the line and invited another friend into the apartment, and the two of them have been raging ever since.  When I saw both of them together in the kitchen a few days ago, it became clear that the battlelines were being drawn: it was either them or us.  And since we signed the lease, it kind of has to be them.

Our kitchen is now a veritable minefield, unfit for any mouse.  There are four snap traps and two sticky traps, all baited with peanut butter.  Fievel and his friend are somewhere in the apartment right now, laughing at us, because they have licked the peanut butter off two of the snap traps.  The sticky traps have been just as wildly ineffective with the mice, but we did manage to catch a Mosher twice.  That’s right, twice.  Apparently, you should not be surprised that the mice can outsmart us.

While we have never seen either of them in uniform, the following sketches are who we are up against.  All we can ask for are your prayers.

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  1. Is Mosher ok? I have a roomate that shits all over the place too. But he keeps it in his diaper.

  2. youre a riot 🙂

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