I Hate Mice

I killed a mouse, and I like it. No, I am not just talking about with a trap or bait, although I have some pretty good numbers in those categories. I actually took a rusty knife and stabbed a mouse in my aviary. They are pretty small, and he bled out in a couple minutes. Then I had to call my husband to figure out how to get the corpse out of the gap between the aviary wire and the corrugated metal wall that makes up the roof and two sides of the structure. His solution: he pulled the mouse through the wire. That had never occurred to me.

Because of the high number of birds we have, both inside and out, there are mice inside and out of this house. They have a regular mousetropolis inside the walls. I have been stuffing steel wool into all the holes I find. I have lost books and stuffed animals to their nesting drives. Sometimes I think nuclear weapons are the only answer.

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Almost every night, just as I was falling asleep, I would hear a rattle and crash of mice scampering around in the bedroom. On a spring cleaning push this week, I found out the source of the rattle. They had managed to push a plastic wall plate that covered the telephone hook-up out of the wall. Stripped the screws and were happily junping in and out of the hole, causing the plate to rattle. A temporary fix is in place, and will be made permanent soon. And until then, I have to keep my dresser in the middle of the room instead of against the wall.

We can’t figure out how the mice get into the dishwasher, but they do. If the dishes are dirty, that’s one thing. I just run a cycle. But if the dishes were clean, I have to clean them again. And in a high-alert drought area, that’s not going to work. My solution is to spray white vinegar into the bottom of the appliance once or twice per day. So far, it’s working.

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After the fateful killing of the mouse in the aviary, the mice stayed away from the place. I have read that they will smell the scent of dead mice on traps after a while, and will stay away. But that didn’t last very long. Yesterday I re-enacted every scene from cartoons where a mouse is being chased by someone with a knife. Stab, scurry, stab, scurry, stab, scurry. Sigh.

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We have two cats. We have put out poison and electronic zap traps. We have used traditional traps, too, with moderate success. We need a flock of kookaburras to come around. I have permission to get a dog from my landlord, and want to get a rat terrier. Unlike cats that will stop hunting when fed, terriers keep chasing and killing as long as there is prey to be had.

And so it goes. I keep wondering if I just accepted their presence and lived in harmony with them, if there would be less destruction and indiscriminate peeing. Probably not. Thanks for reading, I’ll be back Thursday.


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