I love the outdoors. Trees, Water. Rocks. Parks. Beaches. Forests and deserts and lakes and gardens. Heck, even lawn grass. Getting outside is definitely a beautiful thing.
At the same time, I like being able to escape the outside and head indoors, cocoon in my house. It seems I am not the only one who feels that way. There’s a mouse, and it has escaped the great Toronto outdoors right into MY house. And not just anywhere in my house, but the living room.
So off to Canada’s national auto + hardware store where I got some humane traps to trap it, the ones that allow me to take it BACK outside, and then to the store for organic peanut butter, to lure it into said trap.
Standing at the kitchen counter, gingerly glorping little bits of peanut butter into the traps caught Parker’s attention, he of the species known as peanut butter hounds. They are distinguishable from other type of hounds primarily due to the 90 degree angle at which their noses are in the air the minute a peanut butter jar is opened within a 50 kilometre radius.
I bargained with the household gods: let me catch the little bugger and I’ll say an extra thank you or two. And then I put the traps down. Peanut butter hound found them and was about to use his long tongue….a hard clap of the hands dissuaded him.
In the morning? Peanut butter gone. No mouse. Grrrrr. I want a cat again.
I repeated this several nights in a row. By the fifth morning, it was evident that the mouse is a female mouse. A very smart one.
EVOLUTION IS ON MY SIDE?
Now, mice might have an evolutionary advantage: they breed like the vermin they are so, there are lots of them and they can squeeze themselves flatter than a runway model to fit through teeny, tiny gaps in floors and baseboards. I can’t do any of that. All I have is a bigger brain and according to psychobioevolutionary theory (the one that says women choose men differently at a certain time of the month than others), my advantage is that I am smarter. But that’s not all I have: I have a car and can go back to the auto/hardware store and get BIGGER (but still humane) traps. They hold MORE peanut butter. And this morning? Well, no evidence that the mouse was anywhere near the traps.
I am told all field mice look alike. And if this is any indication, well, she looks smart: look at those beady little eyes! The smug little look on her face! I am SO not going to name her. (Am thinking of Lizzie.)
The battle is on.