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JUST
SETTLING DOWN FOR
A LONG WINTER’S NAP
A Widow Bit -- Christmas Eve 2010
By Mary Koch
It’d be so nice to have a man
around the house,
But only when I’m
dealing with a mouse.
Generally, I don’t go along with arbitrary gender roles. I don’t think
rodent control is any more exclusively man’s work than cleaning toilets
is solely the domain of women.
It’s just that when I open a kitchen
drawer and find mouse turds where I’d cleaned only yesterday, I remember
longingly the days when I could sink into my husband’s arms and hear him
murmur, “Don’t worry, honey; I’ll take care of it.”
And he would.
My friends are sympathetic, offering
advice that I don’t need. What I need is someone to own the
problem with me. Own it and MAKE IT GO AWAY!
However, anyone with that deep a
commitment would have to be a husband or at least a significant other,
and I’m not interested in giving up my splendid solitude. So what do I
want – a man or a mouse? Well, for now at least, neither one.
I thought I’d solved the mouse issue
a couple years ago. I installed electronic repellants that transmit a
high-pitched sound, inaudible to humans and larger animals but
supposedly intolerable for mice. Surprisingly, it worked. This year’s
generation of mice, however, seems to be tone-deaf. I envision
adolescent mice who ran around all last summer with teeny iPods attached
to their ears, listening to music so loud (as adolescents are wont to
do), their hearing was destroyed. When cold weather arrived, they began
invading my house, oblivious to my warning signals.
While other people have been
cheerfully Christmas shopping, I have concentrated on the rodent control
department of my local hardware store. The array is mind-boggling. What
psycho dreamed up those “sticky” pads that work kind of like fly paper?
So the live mouse gets stuck to the pad, and then what? It stares you
straight in the eye beseechingly as your prepare to “off” it?
For queasy types like me, there’s a
high-tech disposable trap. You don’t even have to look at the critter
after it enters the trap. In fact, you don’t even have to touch the
trap. You pick it up by a special handle and toss. But at four bucks per
mouse, I can’t afford that level of denial.
After failing at the humane approach
(trap and release), I finally settled upon the traditional (and cheap)
spring trap. Painfully catching the tips of three fingers while setting
the trap did a lot to harden my resolve. I said a very naughty word and
felt a surge of, what was that, testosterone?! With retribution in my
heart, I put the trap under the sink, nabbing my first victim within
hours.
The body count is up to three, and
it’s been over a week since I’ve seen any mouse “sign.” So on this night
before Christmas I happily proclaim, “Not a creature is stirring, not
even a … ”
May you also enjoy a silent night,
holy night.
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