By the cutest little disease vectors ever. Baby mice. I counted three of them wandering around downstairs this evening. We've got traps set, but they are so tiny and light that they can sit on the trap, eat the peanut butter, and nothing happens. Sigh.
Last night, Fitz caught three of them by hand (with gloves on!), and tossed them out in the yard. I'm still not sure that he didn't catch the same one three times.
I had an hour long phone/computer meeting this evening with a co-worker in India, so I finally put some peanut butter and crackers in a jar, and lay it on its side on the floor by my chair, and eventually, one came over and investigated. Bingo. I did contemplate taking it into work and releasing it on the campus there, but finally walked out to the street and down a bit and let it out, along with the peanut butter cracker.
At least two more to go. Plus closing off where they are getting in. Are we having fun yet?
(to all the helpful suggestions that will follow: Fitz is violently opposed to getting a cat. He won't even let me BORROW a cat - one has been offered. But thank you for that suggestion. I'd like a cat, except they come with cat hair, which does not stay attached)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Is Fitz allergic to cats, or just opposed?
It's worth nothing that not every cat makes a superb mouser. (Hecate had little to no interest in chasing the things and I'm sure she is snuggling up next to them over salsa and chips in pet heaven right now.)
In the other hand, a dog I used to live with was crazy about mice. Picture a giant Rottweiler scrambling across the kitchen floor in hot pursuit of a tiny mouse, and slamming into the wall as it scurries under the cupboard. Gracie was kinda nuts, and chasing mice was simply part of her act.
He is opposed. Or... "I like cats too. We should trade recipes sometime."
Post a Comment