I Hate Meeces to Pieces

Very early on New Year’s Eve, I was sitting in the kitchen putting my shoes on in preparation of taking Maegan to the airport to catch her flight back home. I happened to look up just in time to see a mouse running from the pantry to under the refrigerator. There was nothing to do then, but I vowed to rain a world of pain down on that mouse when I got back from the airport.

I don’t have anything against the mouse species in particular, just as long as they stay outside where they belong. They can hang out in warehouses, supermarkets, other people’s homes, grain storage facilities and cheese factories if they want. Just not in my fucking house! We had a problem a few years ago and I had to wage war back then as well. I thought that when we had signed the armistice all the unpleasantness was put behind us. I have held up my side of the bargain, but it seems as if Mousedom has forgotten. Perhaps it’s because for them, fifty or sixty generations have passed. Perhaps they are starving due to the early, cold and snowy winter. Perhaps they have gotten a little cocky and need another ass kicking. Whatever the reason, the gloves are off!

I put out a mouse trap within the first few minutes of getting back from the airport. I followed up with some mouse/rat poison placed in the pantry. Now, I just had to wait…

 

I checked the trap and the little bastard had eaten the peanut butter I had baited it with. I knew I should have used the traditional cheese, but for some reason I thought this particular mouse was a little less traditional and had a more sophisticated palate.

I had just climbed into bed that night when the trap sounded. I had to know, so I got up, put on my glasses and went to the kitchen, only to find the trap sprung but no dead mouse. I reset the trap and went to bed. Sleep did not come quickly, as I was picturing an acrobatic mouse using the trap to launch himself up to the second or third shelf of the pantry. A Cirque Du Soleil mouse as it were. I decided that I had to up my game tomorrow.

 

First thing I fabricated a narrow poison holder for beside the refrigerator and I located three more traps. I loaded them with four different kinds of cheese (who knows what kind a mouse prefers) and placed them in the pantry. I had rearranged the boxes and containers in a sort of maze that would lead the unsuspecting mouse past each trap and the container of rat poison. The mouse doesn’t stand a chance against a mind like mine. Heh…heh…heh…

I has been two days now and I haven’t heard a trap go off or found any mouse droppings anywhere. I’m thinking that the poison has worked its magic and there is the desiccated corpse of that bastard mouse, somewhere under the cabinets where I can’t reach. It will serve warning to other mice that attempt to enter where they don’t belong. Of course, it is possible that he has gone to ground and is attempting to lull me into a false sense of security. Mice can be very devious for beings with a tiny brain.

Only time will tell I suppose.

I totally agree with Mr. Jinx, who has often said of Pixie and Dixie, “I hate meeces to pieces!”