Sunday, December 07, 2008

It worked. Derek dropped that link in the comments eons ago, but I didn't try it until I saw the mouse dash into my stove right before I was about to preheat my oven for a frozen pizza Tuesday night. If I had anything else to eat for dinner, I might have had second thoughts about using the oven with a mouse somewhere in the stove top. But no. If it gets too hot, he'll find his way out. For the next two nights, I set a snap trap on the floor baited with a Cheeto covered in peanut butter. Two nights in a row the peanut butter Cheeto disappeared without the trap going off. So I was feeding peanut butter Cheetos to a mouse because I'm nice like that. On Friday, I unrolled half a roll of toilet paper to get the tube for the no-kill technique. Two more days went by and no mouse. Despair. Then this afternoon, while I was watching an episode of Dexter, I heard a *Thump* in the kitchen. Could it be?
GREAT SUCCESS! Awwww. He's a lot cuter than if he'd been beheaded by a snap trap, still too traumatized by the fall from the kitchen counter to eat the Cheeto. I bundled up and took the garbage can outside and into the Prairie Grass garden in the park across the street. I don't know if the people waiting for the bus thought it was sketchy that I walked into and out of the park with a tall garbage can. I like to think the mouse will find his mouse friends in the snowy grass. They'll be having an early holiday mouse-party with hot chocolate and Peppermint Schnapps. The mouse will tell a harrowing tale about how he was almost incinerated with a frozen Tombstone pizza, and then fell off a 30 story building five days later. One of his friends will clap him on the back, glad he could make it because he sure has some crazy stories.

But the warm holiday party with mouse friends is just a figment of the mouse's imagination as he slowly freezes to death. It's like drifting off to sleep, really. That's the part I try not to think about too much.