We HAD a Mouse!

I wrote in a previous blog how our house had become a time-share with a very clever little mouse/mice. This/these little critters were far too clever for me and evaded every attempt I made at trying to catch them humanely. I said at the time they would have been far better to humour me and walk into one of my very expensive but totally useless traps, then shrug their little shoulders saying,"What are we like?” I would have then rehoused them in a new suitable abode, away from my house and my psychotic wife. But no, they persisted in humiliating me by sneering at my feeble attempts to catch them. I know what the wily coyote felt like now, when faced with the road runner!

The problem for them was that it was inevitable that sooner or later my wife would take over the rehousing of the poor little creatures. My wife is usually a quiet, gentle person who cares for people both professionally and privately. The problem is she becomes as tolerant as a Nazi in a ghetto when it comes to what she regards as vermin. She bought out the local store's entire stock of poison. Why no-one questioned why she needed so much poison is beyond me! I have employed a food taster, just in case she has taken out a huge insurance policy on me without me knowing. 

Every cupboard trap walkway was baited with lumps of poison which for some reason was blue. They/it not only ate the poison she put out, but loved it so much they ate through the box it came in and ate what was inside it. This must have been the Arnold Schwarzenegger of the rodent world! But as the saying goes, 'I think it bit off more than it could chew' we haven't seen it or any sign of it of late. But this hasn't stopped my wife from buying more poison and laying it down. I think she's expecting a muscular mouse turning up and in an Austrian accent saying, “You killed my Farter!” All Austrians have Mutters and Farters! Then she thinks the mouse will whip out its nano-Uzi and spray us with little tiny bullets.

I do feel bad about not being able to rehouse the little critters. It's strange, isn't it, that I'm supposed to be the big mean fighter type and my wife is the meek and mild one, but we swap roles when it comes to things like this. We get a lot of foxes in our garden I love them, but my wife throws water over them because they mess up the bins. She needs order, where I'm not keen. She does love the birds in the garden though, and has even bought a bird table but with the amount of poison she has bought of late I'm not so sure if she's not trying to get rid of all the wildlife in the wood where we live.

She would happily annihilate all moths from the face of the Earth, having a phobia about them, and the same goes for spiders. She reacts to spiders they way I would react to finding a fully-grown tiger in the bathroom! I would forgive anyone for screaming uncontrollably and running off like a gazelle on acid when faced with a fully-grown tiger, but I don't see why you would do this when confronted with an ickle itsy bitsy spider!

So, if you don't read anymore blogs from me in the future, you'll know that the poison wasn't all for the mouse. I have started to look for anything blue in my food! Here's my prayer for the mice.

Please be safe, oh little mouse

Stay away, don't come to my house!

And if you value your precious life,

Don't leave any droppings and piss off my wife!

And while you scurry, what ever you do,

Stay away from our cupboards and anything blue!

Amen!