The mice are back. Remember the mice? There were 4 of them…well, there were four carcasses, many traps, and one brave friend with a rolling pin. It’s much worse this time around…
Friday night: Mouse gets on sticky trap and spends entire night fighting its way off. I wake up to find a trap covered in shit, hair, and no mouse. I notice the giant block of poison left by the exterminator a few weeks ago is gone, as is a good portion of the bottom of my cupboard. I assume that’s from clawing its way off the trap.
Saturday: Clearly sticky traps are not powerful enough, so I set two snap traps and then go spend the afternoon with some cute Stanford boys at Barton Springs. I arrive home to find two snapped traps, no bait, no mice. What the fuck am I dealing with??
I set 2 more sticky traps and three more snap traps under the sink and then go out to dinner with my girlfriends. I am successful in sticking a mouse, unsuccessful in knowing what to do with a live mouse under the sink. I call my friend crying and she assures me she is badass enough to come kill it. She is pretty badass so I believe her.
It turns out that mice can sometimes be cute. I blame Disney. She can’t kill a cute mouse. We decide to bag it and dispose of it on the trap…still alive. We ask two gentlemen in the parking lot of they will kill it for us. They decline. Men suck. We even solicit the help of a cat (true story) and it bats at the bag for a while, but we realize that letting it continue would probably get the cat stuck on the trap. Eventually a flip flop and a lot of screaming later, the mouse is probably dead but most definitely in the dumpster. I set more traps and cry myself to sleep.
This morning I hear a snap and look under the cupboard to see that not only do I have another mouse, it is snapped AND stickied, AND STILL ALIVE! I decide that it’s only a matter of time before it’s dead, so I ignore it. An hour later it is squealing quite loudly and still very much alive. I call my mother crying.
I decide I need to kill this mouse. I need to be badass the way my friend was. I compose myself. I look in the mirror and give myself a pep talk. I CAN DO THIS! I hit it, scream, it screams (because it WILL NOT DIE!!!), I hit it again, scream, it screams and my rolling pin is now stuck on the sticky trap with a STILL LIVE MOUSE. I cry some more and then pull the entire thing out, traps, rolling pin, live mouse, bag it, and walk all the way to the dumpster while it squeals.
I come back to find another one in the box of garbage bags on my counter. I chuck the entire thing off the balcony and then cry for 20 minutes in my shower. Nope. I sob. That mouse is still alive. It stumbled out of the trash bag and I assume it was the culprit who ate the brick of poison.
I plan on raging on my landlord first thing tomorrow morning.
Also, I’m getting a cat.
P.S. I forgot to mention that at one point my entire face was sprayed with mouse/rat piss. It was right out of a horror move, but with urine. I might be dying. I might also have invested heavily in heavy duty facial cleanser.