Strongly Worded

Do I look like a Mouseketeer?

So I experienced minor trauma yesterday morning when brushing my teeth and glimpsing, out of the corner of my eye, something grey under the shelving in my kitchen. It looked vaguely like a mouse, but I thought ... no way. Ha ha. It's something that looks like a mouse. But in fact, when I kneeled over, expecting to be relieved by the shapeliness of a dustbunny or some other gray object, I saw a twitching tail and a mouse that was clearly Not in a Good Place.

I cannot tell you how horrified I was. I am not exaggerating when I say that my heart started pounding and I experienced strange, unreasonable terror and revulsion. I felt paralyzed by indecision. I didn't want to trap the mouse with a towel or any other aspect of my bathroom. If I "woke up" the mouse by trying to step out into the kitchen and find an implement with which to trap it, I might frighten it, and it would scurry away, and then I'd have to endure the knowledge of a loose, un-caught mouse in my environment. Plus, I could tell that the mouse was nearly dead already. It was lying belly-up, barely moving, clearly on its way to mousey heaven.

So after seemingly endless inner debate, I grabbed the toilet brush and whacked the mouse hard and fast. Then I ran--ran--into the hallway and summoned the landlady, who tried to muster up some courage and address the situation, even though it was very clear she was no more equipped to handle it than I was. We pronounced the mouse dead, and, with a dustpan and about seventeen plastic bags, managed to remove it. I then sprayed the area with half a can of Lysol, tried to relax, and left for work.

I stayed late at work, not wanting to go home. I avoided it as long as possible. Then I sucked up my courage, busted out the Pinesol, and cleaned every single surface. I was relieved not to find any other evidence of mice (no droppings anywhere), so I am cautiously optimistic that this mouse was a solitary pioneer and did not have plans to bring his friends and family along with him.

In any case, the landlady dropped off a big box of fresh mouse poison, much like the pellet that had been behind the stove and which the dying mouse had clearly ingested.

I felt (slightly) more secure knowing that every corner of my apartment is now a menace to mousekind. Still, despite this knowledge, I had nightmares about mice under my bed, and mice multiplying before my eyes. I really, really hope this is my last post on this topic.

Posted by Dori at 9:58 AM