Once upon a time there was a girl, and one frigid day in January, she moved to a magical place full of power and mystique. Although this place was beautiful and magnificent in its grandeur, the city contained a dirty secret behind its walls and bellow its streets – MICE and lots of ’em!
If you’ll recall, I had been dealing with ONE mouse (I was in constant denial that there was ever more than one) that I affectionately called Peebs. The cunning little dude successfully ate all the peanut butter clean off the traps without so much as splitting a single hair, let alone getting his head chopped off. This was no ordinary mouse. He was smart, tricky, and elusive. For several months I put a lot of faith in wives tales and dryer sheets and hoped against hope that Peebs would just leave. But he didn’t. And I dealt with it for a while, but he became more daring with each passing day. The little vermin showed himself on many occasions even when guests were over and pooped where he pleased. We rearranged our kitchen, but that didn’t deter him.
The last straw finally came. Peebs ate my birthday cake. MY BIRTHDAY CAKE! Not any of the other roommates, but mine. Me who lived off of the kitchen, me who had sleepless nights wondering what that noise was and if the mouse would climb up my bed and eat my eyes. A line had been crossed. It was him or me. I was paying rent so Peebs had to go.
Peebs put up a good fight. He brought in the troops for reinforcement and they were cunning little guys. But we were smarter and more resilient. Before the traps were set, Tara and I noticed three mice (Peebs, Hammy, and Swiss) were in our empty recycle bin trying to jump into our trash can. We did the first thing that popped into our minds and trapped them in the can with a lid. We decided the best way to dispose of them was to put a peanut butter-covered poison cube in the trash can and place them outside in the freezing cold. So we did. Tara duct taped the lid shut for good measure and put the can in the backyard where it remained until two days ago when Tara and I finally disposed of it (if you’re wondering the 3 mice were still in there – I checked).
Although we had a small victory with the conquest at Recycle Bin, there was no time to rest on our laurels. Peebs had been defeated, yes, but his troops were as persistent as ever to conquer our kitchen. So out came the D-Con – grade A, top notch, inescapable traps.
At final count, we entrapped and disposed of fourteen little rodents within about twelve days. Some traps remain as a precaution, but it seems that if any mice survived Operation Annihilation, then they quickly retreated and set up camp elsewhere.
And the girl lived (and slept) happily ever after.
And at no point in time were they ever rats, Dad!
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5 comments:
I'd say "Mission Accomplished" but I don't know if it's premature.... With all the mice in DC, you never know if they're preparing a second wave in the future!
How about a hearty congratulations on winning the battle, if not the war?
i'm happy for you dear girl, but as they say don't count your chickens..........mice are sort of like rabbits in the reproduction scheme of things. keep those traps handy. love you, aunt jackie
We'll learn from Bush's mistakes and not roll out the "Mission Accomplished" banner just yet. But it's been four months and no sign of mice. I'd say that bodes well for me.
Chelsea,
I am glad to see that mine is not the only family in the world to have discovered that mice, or rats for that matter, like peanut butter. When we had an issue with the pests some years ago, we, as all other people who have succumbed to the idea that mice like cheese -the more holes in it, the better- began with the dairy product only to find that they did not eat it very often, and when they did, they would more often than not remove the bait from the trap unscathed by the snare. We switched to peanut butter after that out of pure desperation to try ANYTHING, and it worked! We also bought some D-con, and it is what we invariably use to wage our war against mice whenever the enemy is resurgent.
-Tyler.
Yikes! That's kind of terrifying... (I'm horribly, irrationally afraid of rodents in my apartment) I hope they remain gone!
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