When you look into the eyes of the mouse…

September 21, 2008

The mouse also looks into you.

Dammit. The cat didn’t get him after all.

I found two of the little … fellows hiding in the compost heap that lives (lived) alongside the carport.

I’ve decided the compost heap should go (which was a danger as one slight tremour and the whole thing would slide, engulfing the carport, car and all) to be replaced with a flat clean area where I can park my scooter. I love my scooter. Did I mention it’s red?

However the compost heap has been undisturbed for several years now, aided and abetted by me throwing hutch loads of used guinea pig hay on the top.

Guinea pigs, coincidentally, make great compost. Honestly, if they were the size of cows we’d have a serious industry on our hands. Perhaps the good folk at Ruakura could breed some?

So, having removed the top layer of guinea pig laden hay, slightly moistened by our lovely winter weather, I discovered several branches, last year’s (and the year before’s) Christmas Tree and enough free air trapped within the heap to create a warren of sorts large enough for two mice.

One fork in the two split up, fled in opposite directions. The quicker, and nearer, one dived headfirst into a gap and vanishes from the story. I imagine him sitting there listening, hoping he won’t be noticed and/or eaten.

The other mouse was not so lucky. My excavations had cut off Route B and so she (I’m assuming here) was trapped Above Ground and Out In The Open.

I have cat like reflexes and I pounced. One quick grab of the tail (I was wearing gloves) and she was mine.No more pillaging in my basement. No more half eaten bits of paper spread all over my garden. No more…

The problem with holding a mouse by the tail is what to do next. A quick brain-smashing flick of the wrist against the carport would do the trick. A bucket of water and a drowning would be relatively clean (although having been involved in several companies with a sinking lid policy on staff hiring, this idea left me more queasy than I would have predicted).

I could do neither. The mouse looked at me. I looked at the mouse. I went and got a bucket, popped her in and took her down to the park to release her in a bush.

It’s one thing to lay a trap and find a corpse but something else entirely to go mano a mano with a rodent. Especially one with big eyes.

As for Misty, the neighbour’s cat, she’s off the Christmas card list and I’ve got my soul back. It’s all good.

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2 Responses to “When you look into the eyes of the mouse…”

  1. Mysterious Dave Mather Says:

    Been there. Nothing makes you feel more like a bully than staring into the dark eyes of a mouse, which is completely at your mercy, and it is twitching its tiny nose.

    When you said you had “cat like reflexes”, what did you really mean? Is it the way you can find your way to the lounge, hop up onto the sofa, and stay there for four hours? Or were you refering to your ability to appear in the kitchen whenever it looks like someone is going to produce food out of the fridge?

  2. audent Says:

    Mrs Audent does shoo me out of the kitchen when there’s food being prepped…

    Personally I aim for Labrador-like reflexes. Sleep 22 hours a day, run around a bit chasing seagulls, get fed…

    bliss.


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