In the wee hours of Sunday morning while it was still dark and I was nestled comfortably in my bed, I was woken up by a telltale sound.
Dave had caught a mouse.
And this one, too, had difficulty accepting its demise. As it bandied about on the attic floor, Dave actually stirred. It took him a while to place the source of the sounds, but eventually he rolled over to me and sleepily said, "I win," before promptly falling back asleep. (It took me a little while longer, what with the mouse still thrashing.)
During the daylight hours, I'd taken Chiquita for a walk and suggested Dave "take care of" his winnings while we were out, otherwise a curious puppy might try to "help" him. When I came back, he told me he had blog fodder. Apparently Dave had set two traps. The first had it's peanut butter bait stolen, but the second--the finisher, if you will--still had some bait left. This mouse couldn't do it's magic trick twice. And, Dave said, "He must not have expected the second trap to go off, cause he pooped himself."
LOL!
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