I have lived in a rural setting for the majority of my life so I know this mouse season well. Fulton County has a nice sized population of these little pests as well but Pulaski County appears to have mice with quicker wit and stronger survival skills. I have found catching mice proves more difficult here than any other place I have ever lived. Could it be the high level of the schools in the area? Eastern Pulaski Elementary School is a four star school. Could it be that these little mice hitch rides in the book bags of our resident children to get to school? If You Take a Mouse to School by Laura Numeroff I think I should ask Dave DeLorenzo for a tour to search for mouse sized classrooms.
Many of my uninvited guests have evaded my traps. So much so that I have been forced in the past to purchase tiny little plastic live traps. These contraptions are fantastic to capture these smaller scholarly rodents; hence, their cuteness of youth prevents me from taking care of them as the alternate traps would do. I cannot kill a mouse in his youth, instead they are released into an old pickle jar (you know, the gallon size) with holes poked in the top for air. The air holes also serve as feeding slots. The quandary happens when the jar becomes an aromatic glass fixture on the kitchen counter. This is the time when I call on my husband. His procedure is simple, thus barbaric.
Fall hit my home early this year. I knew, from experience, that I had a family of varying ages squatting in the pantry from the various sizes of droppings. The dread of capturing the invaders live kept me on task to vigilantly bate the traditional traps. Less than twelve hours and I had won the first battle of this seasons war. There's a Mouse About the House by Richard Fowler
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| My first prize of the 2013 season. A nursing mother and probably a young drop out. She took such a short period of time to capture that she's certainly not the top of her class. |
I find much humor in the antics humans will go through because of such a small creature. My great grandfather, Roland was a six foot tall burly man while my great grandmother was barely four foot eleven and never weighed more than one hundred twenty pounds her whole life even while she was pregnant. After they passed away my mother inherited her pink and black kitchen table. Great Grandma Ada was mad for the color pink and somehow she convinced her manly man husband to paint the kitchen pink and purchase this girly Formica table with four matching chairs. I recall as a little girl sitting in her kitchen in pink awe. It was a beautiful place to be for any little girl or Great Grandma Ada; however, once that set was in our kitchen my grandfather (Ada's eldest son) could not keep from telling the story of the mouse in the kitchen. I have always believed that my grandpa must have stood in the doorway as he watch what happened one particular fall day.
It began as a normal morning; breakfast was cooking on the stove, biscuits in the oven while Ada poured juice in the decanter before she sat it on her precious table. Suddenly, Roland let out a blood curdling scream. Ada turned to see what was the matter only to find her husky husband standing on one of her prize pink chairs. "Roland, get off of my chair. You'll break it," Ada pleaded. In a terrified high pitch Roland said, "Adie, get the broom! Mouse!" then pointed to the corner. "I've got it, now get off of my chair!" Ada exclaimed. At this point in the story my grandfather would be in hysterics and the tears of laughter were welling up in his eyes. I would have to ask the elders in my family for certain if Ada ever got that mouse because understanding anything besides the giggles coming from the eldest offspring of these two great mouse hunters is all I remember. I know that a lot of broom chasing by one tiny woman as a burly manly man screamed from a dainty pink chair and the phrase "I nearly peed my pants" was always uttered from my grandfathers lips as the story concluded.
All of this means that it is the beginning of the mouse season. Keep track of your crumbs. Contain your beans, rice, and pastas. Nothing is safe. Catch them, kill them, get a cat. Whatever you do please check out this blog I found of one mouse crazy reader/blogger: Friend Mouse Blog Spot-Literary Mice. This link is proof that at least one person does not hate mice.
Here is a link to discuss the meaning of mice in our word on several levels. If you can get into the way my mind works this is a very entertaining article via The Shamanic Journey.
Mouse-power animal, symbol of scrutiny & order
I've posted this youtube video because it is a staple in our home. I laugh, the kids laugh, and even the grumpy ol' husband chuckles a little bit every time we watch this.
Mouse commercial
I love your blog! You are a wonderful writer with a great talent at capturing the reader's attention. I too hate mice. I live in the city now so I don't have to worry about them as much, but I grew up in the country. My family's dog was a skilled mouse catcher, but she desired praise for her kill. When I would open the back door to let her inside after doing her business, she would drop her dead mouse right inside the door, then look at me for an encouraging pat. Sometimes she would miss the floor, and the mouse would land right on top of my bare foot. This normally caused me to jump and scream which seemed to confuse my dog. Horrible little creatures who sadly look adorable when they are enclosed inside a cage. My husband and his brother had rats as pets when they were little. The thought of a rodent being in my house by choice sends chills down my spine. I hate most rodents, but find them cute when I see pictures or see them in a cage. I wish you luck in your battle against the little critters. I hope they don't break into your baked goods. We all know what can happen if you give a mouse a cookie...
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