A better mousetrap

   Anyone who reads my blog must already think I'm a little strange, so at this point what's the harm in providing a little more evidence for your case against me?

   This afternoon my cleaning lady called me at work to deliver some news that I certainly wasn't expecting: she found a live mouse in my house! It was in the laundry room, stuck in the bathtub I use to wash the dogs. Who knows how he got there, but the bathtub apparently provided sanctuary from the cats. She thought he looked sick & said he was all wobbly. She wondered if I had poison in the house. (I don't; it's too risky for my own animals.) I asked her to block the door to keep the cats out, and I'd deal with him when I got home.

   When I arrived I immediately went downstairs to check him out. It's a baby. A CUTE baby. And as if that wasn't enough to evoke my empathy (it is), one of his back legs is broken. (Aww!) And he was damp from the moisture in the tub, and shivering from the cold. (Is this breaking your heart yet?) I scooped him up and he sniffed my hand, then started licking me because he was so hungry. (How about NOW? Oh c'mon, you saw Ratatouille, didn't you??)

   I can't kill a mammal. I don't even like killing insects, or anything for that matter. Too much of a guilt complex. I don't think that animal life is any less a miracle than human life, frankly. Mom wisely suggested leaving him in the tub & putting poison in there for him to eat. Great idea, but can't do it. I might as well eat the poison myself, like a bizarre staging of Romeo & Juliet. With my luck I'd think the mouse was dead, be overcome with remorse, eat the poison myself & actually die, and then the mouse would wake up & be so distraught he'd... climb out of the tub and make himself at home in my home. Hey, waitaminute!!!

   So my plan at the moment is to keep the baby in a small aquarium & give him food & water, and see if he can get the use of his leg back—at least enough that I won't feel like he's completely helpless. Then I'll drive him out to a park and let him go in the woods.

   At first I thought, how stupid are these animals that are coming into my yard & now coming into my home—can they not smell the 2 dogs & 2 cats?! And then it dawned on me: they must know that if they can get past my canine & feline defenses that I won't hurt them, and they're home free! EXHIBIT A: Tonight my little buddy is curled up in a bucket (still in the bathtub so I know he can't escape), enjoying birdseed with a side of banana, peach & spinach, and a jar lid filled with milk. It's as if I've painted "SUCKER" across the front of my house & rolled out the welcome mat.

He was so hungry that he gobbled up the birdseed

(Oh c'mon, you're not made of stone, are you?)

Oh, hello there! (You're smiling, I can tell.)

Look how cute & tiny he is! (Yep, it's working...)

Aww, he's licking the palm of my hand! (Undeniably adorable)

   This was seconds before he got so sleepy that he curled up & slept in the palm of my hand (You want one, don't you?)

   I'll see how he's doing in the morning & hopefully release him back into the wild tomorrow. Nothing left to do tonight but make a tiny cast for his bum leg & sign it "2 cute 2 be cat food."
   P.S. to prove that I am not as crazy as you think I am, know this: I now have 5 mousetraps hidden around the house. Sound contradictory to everything I just said? It is. But I am realistic about the fact that mice can carry disease and can also damage your house, chewing through wiring, etc. So as cute as they are, I don't want them as houseguests. I can clear a trap in good conscience for that reason alone. At least with a trap they die quickly & hopefully less painfully than with poison or glue traps.