One night I was pretty sure I heard it. That old familiar scratching. <shudder!>
The next night I saw what I hoped was only imaginary... a dark FLASH! across the floor. <SHUDDER!>
The following evening as Hubby and I curled up under a blanket together to watch some TV, I definitely saw a small shape on the carpet where there shouldn't have been a small shape. I leaned forward to get a better look and ZOOM! it sped away, under the sofa.
I felt an overwhelming need to bleach-scrub my house from top to bottom.
We had a mouse.
And the mouse had to go!
That very same evening, Hubby put out the traps. 2 downstairs, 1 upstairs. There would have been more but some of them were no longer in working order after having been stored during the summer months.
Two mornings later and the mouse had been adequately dispatched. And I felt not one twinge of guilt about participating in its demise. Nasty creatures!
It put me in mind of a humorous moment that occurred this past summer...
As I mentioned, we store our mouse traps over the summer in the back corner of the pantry after they have been thoroughly washed and air dried, ready to be brought out for the killing season. Which is any time a mouse enters my house. But predominantly in fall and winter.
Hubby had scrubbed the little black traps and had set them lined up on the floor between the stove and cabinet, near the kitchen sink. I was to put them away later on in the day.
My son dropped in for a quick visit and stood, leaning against the sink, while we chatted about one thing or another when he looked down to his left and saw a line of 6 mouse traps, did a double-take and immediately asked "Expecting a stampede?"