A big mouse. © P J Croft 2014

I’ve been noticing a mouse running around inside ever since Minnie died. I never had a problem before when she was with me. (Now I also get regular visits from a very friendly Burmese cat too, but I know if I feed her, I’ll never get rid of her.)

At first I tolerated the mouse. I don’t like killing animals and so I treated it as a guest.  But the problem is, they leave their little deposits everywhere. Yes, mouse poops. Around December I’d reached my limit, put a mouse trap out and it did its job.  Exit one mouse.

But another one took its place. Again, I tolerated it, but it was becoming bolder and bolder. It was running more slowly, and sometimes coming right up within about a metre away from my foot, looking at me.

Last week, I found it in a container where it couldn’t get out. I tried to catch it but when I finally got it in my hand, it bit me! Yow!! It hurt and I dropped it quick. After that it started coming up the chair I’m sitting in, ready to climb onto me. I drew the line at that and scared it away.

Then yesterday I saw it in the dishwasher just as I was about to start a load. I tried to catch it but it disappeared into a crevice and I couldn’t find it. I lost patience and started the wash anyway. Too bad, mouse.

Sure enough, when the wash finished and I opened the door, there it was, at the drain, very clean, but very drowned. So I threw it out the door and thought that was that.

No! Last night I noticed another one running across my kitchen bench. More poops, and chewed plastic where it had been trying to get into my meusli packet. I couldn’t be sure it hadn’t, so I had to throw half a packet out.

I’d been putting rat poison packs out but they were untouched, so I opened a packet and left it on the floor.  This morning it seemed to have been disturbed so I thought there might be a very sick, if not dead mouse about.

But NO! Half an hour ago, at 6.30pm, I saw it running around again in this computer room. I think I’m going to have to get more serious. It’s a pity, because I hate killing small animals, but this can’t go on. If they didn’t poop and didn’t bite me, we might get along, but this is war.