No that’s not my “Don the Con” sound. It is my OMG a mouse sound.
Midday Matinee is our people watching, people doing and people being feature. Join the Woodland Creatures for an afternoon break.
I have made some progress on dealing with a mouse or worse two or more mice. When my sons were old enough I paid them to take the trap and the dead mouse to the garbage can. When I parked my camper outside of my aunt’s house she came out and took the traps away. She was in her 80s and didn’t understand my freak out but helped anyway. She had the same reaction to a wild bird in the house so we traded favors.
I have gotten a little better. I can now sweep the trap and dead mouse out of the door unassisted. My boss was standing outside once when the loaded trap came flying out the door. He nicely tried to tell me that the traps were reusable. After he saw the look on my face he said, “Or not.”
What I have spent on traps in my lifetime would maybe pay for an hour of therapy. I don’t think an hour would begin to make a dent.
Yesterday camper Judy came to say good bye and noticed a little field mouse under a lawn chair. I was ready to mace the critter while she was exclaiming over how cute he was. She took a large zip lock bag and coaxed the ‘sweet little guy’ into it. She carried it into the woods and told me relocating him was much kinder. I don’t mind them outside but three more came out from under the camper. I know from experience that they are able to get inside way too easily. Judy captured all three and took them into the woods too. She was busy explaining to me that deer mice with the big ears are even cuter. I was just staring at her while she did her thing. I did tell her that I thought when she said relocate I had in mind 100 miles or so.
I have since gone around with pennyroyal oil on little cotton balls and placed them inside my camper and put a couple on the generator. That was their last known ‘home’and an easy way inside. It smells like peppermint and is the best mouse deterrent I have found.
I’m sure the mice have some purpose in the grand scheme of things. Knowing it would do nothing to change my feelings. I only freak out when they’re inside. That scurrying, scratching sound when I am laying in bed ready to fall asleep is awful. I am just quite proud of myself that I can now get the dead mouse in trap outside by myself. Fear is never rational. Perhaps I should remember this as “Don the Con” stokes voters fears.
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