Don't Make Him Angry

After Dave caught his latest mouse, he reset the traps just in case.  I'd thought I'd heard one of the traps go off yesterday morning as I woke up, but since it went so quickly and there was no residual noise, I promptly forgot about it in my sleepy fog.  Then last night, when Dave and I went to bed, I remembered.

Me:  I think you might have caught another one.

Dave: Oh, I should check that tomorrow then.

Not 5 seconds later we heard a scratchy scratch sound coming from the ceiling above our bed.  We pondered for a while what a mouse could possibly be doing that created such a loud noise.  I'm still convinced that it's a squirrel rolling acorns, but Dave disagrees.  There just is no other explanation.  We used to have a hamster (his name was Fezzik and he was awesome).  Despite that he lived in the room right next to us, with his cage and hamster wheel on our shared wall, he never made as much noise as these "mice" in our attic.  Therefore, it must be something other than a mouse. 

Fezzik

At one point I yelled at the mouse to shut up because I wanted to go to sleep and it actually did stop making noise.  Several hours later, I was stirred awake by the same acorn-rolling shenanigans. It was 3:45 am.  How rude.  

Well, it turns out I wasn't the only one whose sleep was disturbed by this uninvited guest.  About 20 minutes later, I stirred again, hearing REALLY BIG mouse in the attic.  And then I noticed Dave wasn't in bed.  And then I noticed the hall light was on.  And then I heard Dave come up from the basement with the ladder and climb up into the attic.

Me: Uh-oh.  That mouse is in trouble now.

After another 10 minutes of hearing the REALLY BIG mouse scour the attic, it finally left the attic and came back into bed.  I asked him what he was doing.

Dave: Resetting the traps.  I caught one.  

Me: It sounded like you were walking around up there.

Dave: I was searching for the mouse.  

Clearly at 4 am Dave's faculties weren't all there, because I would have assumed the mouse would just run and hide the moment Dave opened the attic and the light shined in.  But apparently this was personal since it caused Dave to get out of bed and go mouse-hunting at that hour.

Me: Are you sure it's not a squirrel?

Dave: I did not find a squirrel or evidence of one.  There were no acorns.

Me: Damn.

Less than a minute later: Scratchy, scratch, acorn roll.

Dave: Go find the peanut butter, you little bastard.

I don't know if he heard Dave or not, but he did stop making noise.  Does anyone else think this is shaping into a Wile E. Coyote/Road Runner cartoon?

I'll let you know if the ACME boxes start coming.

Oops, I Crapped My Pants

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."

They're Baaaack!

Last night Dave was working in the office.

Dave: Uh-oh.

Me (from the kitchen): What? Did Chiquita get into something? (Nope, she was curled up on her blanket in the living room, getting a pre-bedtime nap.)
Dave: No, I think I heard a critter.

Me: Dammit.

I went into the office and stood in the doorway, both of us being super quiet. Sure enough, we heard the tell-tale scratching.

Dave: I'll set a trap tomorrow.

And so begins another round. Hopefully this one is really stupid and alone.

Nuisance du Jour

When D first bought our house, he did a lot of work to the landscaping, giving it significantly more curb appeal. He took out trees, removed a chain link fence, put in flower beds, and more. One of the trees that the removal company took out was right on the edge of the lawn and driveway. Since removing the stump would have ruined the driveway, they cut it down pretty close to the ground and left it.

D has been systematically killing the stump in an attempt to remove most of it and bring it flush to the grass. Sometime in the last month or so it had deteriorated enough that he was able to remove most of it and fill in the hole with some sod so that it looks like we have an uninterrupted lawn. Last Friday morning, D and I were on our way to the car when we noticed that the stump area had been dug up. The carefully placed sod had been disturbed and strewn all over the area.


Assuming this was a the work of the crazy squirrels in our neighborhood (yes they are crazy--we have one single tulip that grows among our holly bushes. Just one. And we've never planted tulips. We can only assume that a squirrel "relocated" a tulip bulb thinking he'd enjoy it later. And then it stopped being food and started being a flower.) D was cranky since he had literally just filled in the hole a few days prior, but we got in the car and went about our business.

When I got home from work that afternoon, we entered the house through the side door, going through the gate at the end of the driveway. We have a little side yard here with a small patch of grass and then lined with lilies on one side and just a mulch bed on the other. We'd pulled out a dead lilac tree earlier this spring, so hadn't done much else with it. The corner closest to the gate also has another dead tree stump, this one very old and dilapidated, the tree having been removed well before our moving into the house. Walking through the gate, I noticed this:

What used to be a completely smooth and flat, albiet dead, tree stump, now had a hole in the middle. Like a doughnut.

Me: Um, is this new?

D: Yup, I noticed that earlier today. I think it's the same crazy squirrel who dug up the other stump.

Me: Does he realize it's not dirt, it's a tree? Has he lost so many acorns that now he needs to hide them in landmarks to remember?

Annoying? Yes. Mildly destructive? Ok. But really overall, just bizarre squirrel behavior.

Saturday morning, D and I woke up to begin preparations for our Fourth of July party. Since the weather was awesome, we knew we'd be using the pool and the deck to their capacity, so I opened the back door do get to business. What's this? Why is that terra cotta planter that lives on the ledge now on the ground? Why is there dirt everywhere?

D and I have been toying with growing various herbs and such and decided this spring to grow our own garlic. We stuffed a few cloves into this pot, they started to sprout and when the weather turned nice, we took our various container gardens outside. This was the pot that had the garlic (nevermind that the garlic had died due to heat exhaustion and lack of water).


Um...where's the clove of garlic? Allow me to sum up: crazy squirrel digs up two dead tree stumps and then knocks over a planter from the ledge to the table to the deck floor, leaving a trail of dirt, digs the garlic clove out of the dirt and runs off with it.

Let me repeat: A squirrel stole our dead clove of garlic off our deck.

I've come up with two possible scenarios. The first, with the rise of the Twilight series, the squirrel--crazy and all--has decided it needs garlic to defend itself from rogue vampires. And being that the squirrel is also stupid, it doesn't know that dead garlic will not be effective. The second, and more likely, scenario, is that since the mice can no longer enter our attic, they have teamed up with the neighborhood squirrels, employing their antics to terrorize our yard. I'm not sure what the mice have to offer the squirrels, but I'm sure there is trickery afoot as apparently the mice are mentally far superior to the squirrels.

Intruders Be Warned

As I told you last week, my disappearance was warranted, but I must now apologize for yesterday. As with most first days on the job, I expected (and did in fact receive) lots of free time yesterday to settle into my office, nest with my personal items and catch up on doing important things, like renewing my magazine subscriptions and blogging. Unfortunately, the transition of my computer was a little complicated for the tech staff here because I didn't have access to my computer until 3:45 pm and with the new job, I leave at 4:00 everyday. As much as I missed you, I wasn't staying late for you. Hugs & kisses!


I know you were all very concerned, so I will start with the conclusion of the on-going saga of the mice in the attic. I would love to tell you a witty story, but the email I received from my husband in the middle of a busy workday really says it all:

I know your blog readers probably want to know the ending to the mouse saga. The latest is: I win. Last time, I set 2 traps and this was after plugging the passageway in the corners of the siding. Both traps were “full” and there was peanut butter remaining on the one trap. I haven’t heard anything in the ceiling and you haven’t told me that you heard anything. Therefore: I win.

I'm Not Ignoring You

I'm just super busy. Really. And I can't figure out why.

Here's what's going on:

• A new program with a bunch of crazy executives started 3 weeks ago and I've been at their beck and call. I have had zero time for important personal business (i.e., blogging and message boards) since they came in (although I have made waxing and pedicure appointments a priority. The good news is: I have stories you'll love.
• I got a promotion! Yea! I start on Monday and I'm hoping that the first week I'll have a lull that will allow me to tell you all about. Although since that means I haven't had to work on any projects that go beyond this week, I still can't figure out why I've been so busy.
• I read a hilarious book and cannot wait to share all the fabulous things I learned. (I've actually read 4 books this month, but one in particular you'll love.)
• There is a mouse update. 'Nough said.

So, forgive me? If so, thank you. If not, screw you. Later!

Intruder Alert

The other night D and I came home from dinner and were talking in the living room. I got up to go to the kitchen, still carrying on our conversation and then stopped in the doorway between the two rooms.

And then I heard a little noise coming from the ceiling.

Me: Did you hear that?

D: No.

Me: Come in here. It's coming from over by the door (which would be the exact opposite side of the house from where we've heard these noises before).

Scratchy, scamper noises continued.

D: Son of a...sigh. (walks to the basement door)

Me: What are you doing?

D: Going to get the ladder to set the trap again.

M-O-U-S-E

If you were wondering, that's how you spell nuisance. It's unbelievable. I'm convinced that there is a controlled habitat exercising Darwin's Theory of Evolution playing out in our attic. The mice are getting smarter. It's the only excuse.

D caught a fourth mouse--peacefully. However, again, both traps were void of bait (peanut butter). So clearly, the Alpha mouse is still sending his minions to the traps in order to set them off (and kill his competition) so that he can get the peanut butter. The strange this was the empty trap. The peanut butter was gone, but the trap hadn't gone off. So D tested the trap. And by tested, he set it, and then dropped a screw on it to see if it would go off. It did. And proceeded to fly up in the air. Very curious indeed, since now we know the trap works.

D decided to use his resources. The traps have a little plastic piece of "swiss cheese" where you are to place your bait. D thought if he stuffed the peanut butter into the holes, the mouse would have to work hard to get it all out and in doing so, the trap would go off. So he reset the traps and waiting.

I must interject that I'm pretty sure we're getting to the point of Wile E. Coyote trying to catch the Road Runner, minus the part where Wile E. Coyote gets hurt from his antics. D hasn't a scratch on him (yet) from this escapade, but I can tell he doesn't like the idea of being outsmarted by a mouse.

Sure enough, along came another mouse, caught in the trap. And again, the peanut butter was gone in both traps.

Now for those of you concerned that we're treating the symptom, not the problem, please know we have found the entry point for the enemy. D has developed a solution for keeping any more critters from gaining entry, but we still don't know how big the army we're fighting is. Clearly, as I said, there were enough to create a science-project scale version on observing survival of the fittest.

We're getting there. I'm hoping were actually nearing the end because I don't know if there is enough fodder here for this to keep being funny. But who knows? Maybe I can salvage the situation for humor. After all, when D and I were reading before bed last night, we both stopped and looked up. It sounded like a scamper, but we only heard it once. I thinking now the mice might just be screwing with us.

Night of the Living Mouse

You know that commercial where the cat hires the bloodhound to sniff out her litter box? I’m very close to hiring a cat to sniff out mice in our attic.

Ok, so where did I leave off? Yes, D had caught a mouse but there was suspicion that another mouse existed. Well, that was confirmed. D reset the trap and another mouse was caught. Yet, the peanut butter was again suspiciously missing. So D reset the trap and added a second trap to rid ourselves of the possible mouse sanctuary in our attic.

Snuggled comfortably in my bed, dreaming of things other than mice, I am bolted awake at 2:45 am but not exactly sure by what. It was a loud noise, for sure (although seeing as how D was undisturbed in his slumber, he’ll argue it wasn’t that loud). The noise is followed by softer noises, but not the traditional scratching of a mouse. Of course, persistent noise in the middle of the night causes my mind to immediately race to an intruder. I came this close to waking up D, and then thought, “Wait, this sounds mildly familiar.” The humidifier then cycled off, so I got a better idea of the noise. Oh how familiar it was!

Remember when I said a few years ago our mouse trap was “inefficient”? Yeah, turns out the new ones are inefficient, too. Again, struggling on the access board to the attic, was a mouse that got himself caught, but not “finished.” So I lay in bed in the dark, trying to ignore the sounds of my struggling mouse-intruder, hoping to be rescued by peaceful slumber.

And then I had to pee.

D & I have a strange layout to our bedroom that has two doors leading to the hallway. They are side by side, but not connecting. We believe the original layout of the house was two separate rooms, and at some point, someone took down a wall, but left the two doors. We rarely use the one closer to the closet (I’ve got shoes and clothes hanging on the back of it), but at this time, having it seemed like such a good idea. Because the door we typically use leads out to the hallway directly under the attic access point.

But using the other door would be too easy. Why have a simple solution to avoid walking directly underneath vampire-mouse? I couldn’t use the other door because D had the ladder resting against it in the hallway (that would have been one way to wake D up—“sorry I dropped the 6 foot aluminum ladder on the bedroom floor at 3 in the morning, baby!”). So I had a decision to make. Use the regular door and get close to the sounds of the undead or hold it and hope to fall asleep anyway. (And if you know me, you know that the second option is just preposterous.)

So after about 20 minutes, I summoned the courage to go to the bathroom (wow that looks as ridiculous typed out as it sounded in my head). I ran to the door, opened it, and hurriedly made it to the bathroom without hearing too much movement. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky upon my return (I think he knew someone was nearby and was pleading for help). I tried desperately to ignore it, ran back into bed, and eventually fell asleep.

Three hours later, my alarm clock goes off and I have vague recollections of the events of the wee hours that morning, although I do think to myself, “I’d better tell D to take care of that later today.” As I walk out the bedroom door to the bathroom, I am surprised to hear slight movement above my head.

I kid you not, in 3 hours this mouse would not give it up.

At this point, I’m so over Terminator-mouse, that I’m not even fazed by it. I continue to get dressed and ready to leave. I wake up D to drive me to the train station, fill him in on his duty for the day, and let him know that we have a special breed of indestructible mice living in the sanctuary.

Later D tells me that he did check out the situation (approximately 4 hours from impact). Both traps had gone off, but only one was “full.” And all the peanut butter was gone. We’re hoping that the caught mouse had tried to eat the bait off the other trap and set it off, but we’re not sure.

And if you think this story is over, it’s not. However, the next part is a little gross, so I won’t be offended if you stop here.

Apparently when D checked the trap, the mouse was still, we’ll say struggling. D knew he had a task to handle, so he did what any good man would do. He thought about his petite, peppy and brilliant friend who for several years held a job in a lab that required her to kill mice on a regular basis. And he recalled the method she’d shared with us. Below is the email exchange they shared on the subject.

Dear K,

I’m so lucky to know someone that does such strange work as killing mice/rats. I’ve had a couple of the pesky critters roaming my attic. I successfully taken out 2 of them. They all went quietly. Recently I caught a 3^rd. It did not go quietly. After finding it attached to the trap I devised two options. 1. The soon to be patented K Neck Snap technique (with pencil) and as a backup 2. The guillotine method with a hatchet. I’m very thankful that after my second attempt with the K Neck Snap technique. Option number 2 was not necessary. I really didn’t want to clean my hatchet.

Thank you for your wisdom,

D

Her response:

Haha, I'm glad I could help. Good job! Be careful with the pencils though- they can break... pens are much more reliable. My current lab doesn't allow us to do cervical dislocations down here, so it's been awhile since I've used that technique myself. We need to gas mice and then cut open their chest cavity. It takes like 5 minutes to kill a mouse now. Lame!

A Mouse in the Attic

Or possibly a squirrel.

Last week, I was nestled in my cozy bed in the middle of the night, minding my own business when I was suddenly woken up. A little noise was coming from above the bed, namely, the attic. It was a combination of the tell-tale scratchy noise of a mouse and what I can only describe as an acorn being rolled across the rafters. (D later described it as mouse bowling.)

Regardless, I was not pleased. Especially since between the acorn rolling and scratching sounds, I also had to deal with D's snoring. Well, until I poked him. Which he didn't like. Because he started whining in a sleepy, confused state, "Ow, why'd you hit me?" And then proceeded to fall back asleep and continue snoring. Lucky me.

I stewed for a little while before falling back asleep because a) I had to go to work the next morning and this little bugger was annoying; and b) D & I had bought mousetraps the weekend before since we had heard Mr. Mouse's scampering before. It was rather inconsistent and we didn't hear him every night. In fact, D had even set a trap before. And when he checked it, it had not gone off, but the peanut butter was all gone. Hence, we needed to buy new traps.

Eventually I fell asleep and the next day ask D if he'd set the trap. He hadn't. Apparently I'd hidden the traps. In the bag from Lowe's. In the kitchen. Right out in the open that he probably walked past 20 times a day. I love my husband dearly, but he's right. If I want to hide something from him, all I have to do it put it right in front of him.

So he baited and set the trap and put it in the attic. And we proceeded to forget about it...until last night.

Now, I must interrupt myself and explain, this is not like the time that I was home and heard the trap go off. Since we live in a ranch-style house and the attic doesn't have pull down stairs, there is just a piece of wood at the access point to the attic, which is located in the hallway. A few years ago we had a little mouse get in the attic. D set a trap, and apparently placed it very near to this access point. One day I was home and the trap went off. Now that's a sound I was ok with. But what proceeded to happen is something that could have lived without. The trap went off, and must have fallen onto the access piece of wood, because for the next 15 minutes all I heard was "thump, thump...whack, thump...thump, whack." Apparently our trap wasn't "efficient" so I actually started pleading with the mouse to "just give it up, buddy." Of course, D was very happy that I'd left it for him to take care of when he got home.

So fast forward a few years, and what did I hear last night? Well, it wasn't the trap going off.

Me (lying in bed, just about to go to sleep, with my eyes wide open as soon as I heard the faint scampering): I know you heard that.

D: Um...yeah.

Me: Did you check the trap?

D: No...but only because you've been home. (I like that in this situation, I'm more of a nuisance than the mouse)

Me: So, it might be a new mouse?

D: It's either a mouse or....

Me: Or a squirrel? Because I'm still trying to figure out what a mouse would do with an acorn (because I am convinced that was what he was rolling about the other night).

So imagine how excited I was to receive this text from my husband this morning:
mice population in attic -1

Unfortunately, he also confirmed that there is in fact a second mouse. Apparently our attic is a mouse sanctuary. Although D said he thinks the first mouse was a sacrifice because all the peanut butter in the trap was gone. I guess now it's my husband versus the Alpha Mouse.