Sunday, August 14, 2011

Killing a mouse on Sunday

Which has absolutely nothing to do with the Emeric Pressberger book, or the civil war, but really deals with killing a mouse on Sunday... or at least catching one. After my serious brain overheating the last while I decided a little lie down somewhere was called for just after lunch (how I would have despised myself, twenty years ago. Boring old fart, there is so much world out there and no time for sleep... yeah well. Time moves on. I thought I'd be dead by now. Perhaps I am.) I lay down, covered my eyes with a pillow (I'm light sensitive, and light wakes me. So it made perfect sense to go and live further South than KZN - to where the summer days are VERY LONG...)
And as I was entering the hallowed halls of Morpheus, a little something nuzzled my ear. Now, sadly, it's been a long time since since Barbs just slipped into bed and nuzzled my ear. Really, it's the sort of surprise that makes a bloke smile... possibly less so when the whiskers tickled and I realised this was a rodent, rather than the girl of my dreams. I sat up a trifle abruptly, which must have hurt the mouse's feelings as it vanished down the back of the bed. I was now thoroughly awake so I pulled mattress aside in time to watch one brown mouse zip down the back and under the bed. It left me a mouse-token on the pillow to show just how much it cared.

At this point I attempted to introduce a cat to the mouse thinking this would be relationship made in heaven, as I was fairly sure that was how the mouse got in in the first place. They bring them in to play with, and leave the bits where you can stand them when going to 'loo if you are foolish enough not to turn a light on.

Unfortunately the only cat present was Robin who was sure I had disturbed her beauty sleep for some nefarious and cruel purpose. So I went and fetched a sleeping Duchess. She stalked off in high dudgeon. How dare the staff disturb her rest? She only catches mice when it suits her. At this point Barbs got in on the act and we spent the next twenty minutes moving furniture, assisted by Batman. Who had the mouse run over his feet. We couldn't expect him to catch mice while he was helping us by getting underfoot and sitting in open drawers? Eventually, at about the 300th try, by now no longer caring if the little beast bit me, so long as I could stop the furniture mazurka, I managed to grab it, and a warm, tiny body in hand I took out and flung it as far possible. The dogs gave chase...

So next time I know who to call.


  1. At least your cats didn't run away and hide from the mouse!

    Mine brought lizards home and released them in the house.

  2. When I was little I had a dog named Murphy. Murph was a great mouser. Evety summer when we hayed, she would run after the tedder and catch the mice that jumped out as the hay was turned. Pounce with two front paws, flip it up and snap, no more mouse. One summer she got so full she could barely move. Of course, this was also the dog that ate watermelon rind.

  3. Our solution to mice is the strategic placement of evil Japanese gluetraps. The only drawback (apart from their unavailability for purchase in France) is that if you want to reuse them - a good idea given the aforementioned lack of purchasability - someone has to pry the almost dead mouse from the glie. No prizes for guessing which member of the family piles up the negative Buddhist karma by performing this labour.

    However, the glue traps work much better than classic spring traps and also infinitely better than our, now retired, feline. In the old days he frequently caught mice, lizards, geckos etc. and brought them home to eat but this is now beyond his abilities what with his teeth not working well and a certain slowness of gait.

  4. We had a dog -Sumo (cross Keeshond-bull-terrier) who was just about ratter the universe ever saw - and working on fish-farms he had lots of work. He out thought them. You'd go to move a feedbag and he'd position himself where they'd run to. Catch shake drop. No interest in eating them. It must have been in the genes or something. Our other dog - Old English - used to get terribly excited, never caught one. She did kill one, by standing on it by accident as she ran after it (over-running).

  5. I'd never heard of a glue-trap. And many a sticky mouse will await you in the afterlife....

  6. You really can't expect the cats to catch a mouse when it's your idea. After all, they are the rulers, not you. They wouldn't want you to start thinking you can tell them what to do.

    LOL, at least it was caught and out of the house.

  7. Please do NOT use glue traps. They are horrible. Animals will pull pieces of themselves off trying to get away, they will even gnaw their legs off. And to let a mouse starve to death on glue is disgusting.

    They are a horrible invention. The only reason they're unavailable in France is because they are outlawed there - I think that says it all, really.