I awoke from a deep sleep in the early hours to loud banging and screaming in my home. I groggily rushed into the kitchen to find Son’s girlfriend rocking in the foetal position on the bench, giggling. Husband and Son were bent over pulling stock out of the bottom of our pantry trying to find the mouse that just terrorised them.
The screaming I heard – that was the men when the mouse scurried from the pantry, skipped through their legs squeaking “Catch me if you can!”, turned around, and ran back – with its little erect tail giving them the proverbial “bird”. Well, that’s how I like to picture it!
The hunt was on. The battle had begun.
Round 1: Set mouse trap with cheese
Son bought home a mousetrap. On his knees, bum in the air, with his face close to the trap and his tongue lolling out in concentration, he studiously set the trap with a juicy morsel of cheese; then went to bed.
He yelled with rage in the morning “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He couldn’t believe that when he checked the mousetrap it was still set, but the cheese was gone; and there was no mouse in sight!
I couldn’t help but smile. A tiny wittle mousey outsmarted him.
Round 2: Set 4 mouse traps with cheese
He bought 4 mousetraps the next day, set them all with cheese then rubbed his hands with glee, a winners twinkle in his eye and an evil “mwah mwah mwah” laugh. He was determined the mouse would be minced by morning.
Son was outfoxedmoused again. Little Jerry was fattened up this night with his very own cheese platter before settling in for the night.
I started to respect the intelligence of this tiny field mouse immensely. And yes, I liked him so much I named him Jerry.
Round 3: Peanut Butter
Son: “Mum, I’ve done my research. Mice can’t resist peanut butter.”
Me: “I don’t want you to get him, I like Jerry!”
Son: “Don’t name him Mum, it will just make it harder for you when I kill him!”
He baited the traps with peanut butter. Jerry obviously did like peanut butter as he cautiously removed them from the traps, leaving them to be discovered mouse-less the next day.
I was disgusted that my Son had resorted to this way of sending poor little Jerry to heaven. I hoped he had the intelligence of Albert Einstein so he would elude the dreaded Nooski and live another day.
Jerry went to heaven that night, with a full tummy of cheese and peanut butter and hopefully a smile on his face, knowing that he was loved by me.
RIP Jerry. You gave us so much entertainment that week. You were one smart mouse.
Ps: We do have a cat. We found her asleep in the spare room guarding a little field mouse who was also curled up and fast asleep. She just wanted a friend….
© 2015 CEW