I swear to all that is Holy there is a well-marked road map
and several sign posts with possible runway lights that lead straight to our
dishwasher and kitchen. It is miniature sized. Mouse sized. We have another one, or several, or however many. F and
I were away on vacation for a week. Puppy was at the Dog Sitter’s house. When I entered the kitchen I noticed all the “spare”
pieces of food Puppy had left on the floor surrounding her bowl were gone. Then
within minutes of Puppy making it in the house she was tail deep in a corner of
the kitchen where we keep a bag of bags. I thought that was odd since she never goes in
that corner. I moved said bag aside and
low, there were droppings.
“Shit.”
Then as I grabbed the bread to make myself some toast, I
noticed a hole in the bread bag. “Is
that melted? From being by the toaster oven?…. even though it was nowhere near
the toaster oven?” Then I noticed the
chunk of bread missing.
“Fucking shit.”
Checking the counter top where said bread was kept I spied
more dropping.
“Mother Fucking SHIT!!!!!!!!!”
I started opening all the drawers looking for more droppings
because that is where they have been the last few times. I saw none. I also saw
none in the dishwasher. Another favorite
spot.
“This could be not so bad.”
“F! the mice are back! Please call an exterminator ASAP. I
am sick of dealing with this.”
F: “grumble, complain,
makes excuses…..”
Next day
“Holy shit! The mice have made it into the half bathroom!
Please call an exterminator!”
F: “grumble, complain,
makes excuses…..”
Another Day Passes
Puppy and I are filling the dishwasher when I open the door
and there is a small grayish thing sitting there. I realize it is a mouse and slam the door
shut hoping to knock it unconscious with the door. Puppy is completely clueless even though half
of her breed is “standard size dachshund was bred to scent, chase, and flush out badgers and other burrow-dwelling animals”.
Mice are burrow dwelling, aren’t they? Anyway, she did nothing. The mouse was dazed, but not completely out
of it. I stared at it for several moments trying to decide if I should just
reach into the dishwasher and grab it. I was afraid it would bite me. During my
indecision period the mouse had made it to its goal, the vents or something in
the bottom of the dishwasher door. It
crawled right up in there. Where it went from inside the dishwasher door I have
no idea.
“F! The mouse is in the dishwasher door!!!”
“I don’t know what to do about that, I have no idea how to
get to it. Just run the dishwasher.”
So I did. Then I
washed all the knives and emptied the drawers. Everything is now on the dining
room table and you have to walk there to get a knife, or spoon or fork.
F is picking up mouse traps today.
