Tonight I realized that we have (what is most likely) a mouse in our apartment. Our bread bag contained a large hole in one corner and several smaller holes.
Immediately, I said: We must have a mouse. Where is Kissa when you need her? Kissa is my youngest cat, who lives with my mother. She’s the only cat I’ve ever had that showed any skill at mousing. I grew up in the country so the occasional critter in the house isn’t generally a big deal to me.
It is apparently a thing for my boyfriend, Michael. It freaks him out at least a little that we have a mouse. I informed him that we’d just call maintenance in the morning and see how they wanted to handle it. He then informed me that when the hoses in our dishwasher had to be replaced a few weeks ago they had been chewed on.
Since I do not have a cat, I did a quick search of recommended ways to deal with a rodent in your home. I’m not fond of the idea of snap traps (ew!) and I don’t have much faith in those electronic things that claim to keep them away. From a purely practical standpoint the first two steps are obvious:
- Eliminate food sources. Today was Sunday so the housekeeping was done but this incident brings to light that I’m going to have to talk with Kiddo about this. He tends to leave crumbs all over the place when he eats snacks on cereal/granola bars. Make sure under the cabinets and in the pantry are thoroughly swept at least weekly. Also, no more bagged food in the pantry.
- Close up entry points. One of the articles I read stated that a mouse only needs a hole 1/4 of an inch to enter your home. I am sure there’s at least one space under my sink that fits that description. Furthermore, the pantry door doesn’t sit flush to the ground. I’m going to have to clear out the pantry to look for holes.
After that I’m going to have to trust the professionals. As I previously mentioned, keeping up with and changing out snap traps does not appeal to me at all. I don’t know much about the efficiency of poisons, but it makes me very happy that I no longer have a toddler in my home.
As I am writing this, Michael walks into the bedroom and announces that he wants to buy a humane mouse trap. There are two kinds of people in the world; Michael and I are obviously not the same kind.
I tell him: That is not going to happen. What are you going to do? Take it outside – so it can come right back in? No. This mouse needs to die. I rattled off some statistics on mouse reproductive cycles and he informed me that I needed to stop looking things up.
After a brief side conversation it has now been determined the mouse’s name is now Earl. (Bonus points if you sing the chorus.)