mice
uow when the cat is away
the mouse will play
they say they say
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uow though in gaelic it's 'dance' not 'play' 040810
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nom) mice in the walls
mice in the halls
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tender_square i wasn’t aware that they were scurrying through the oakwood house until i saw the halloween candy wrappers on the kitchen floor i didn’t remember dropping. then there was their droppings left in the silverware drawer, next to the knives and inside the spoons. two cabinet interiors had holes connected to the wall that acted as passageways for them, and the cabinet where the recycling bin was kept had no backing at all; these were their favorite spots to gather.

i didn’t want to set snapping traps but what choice did we have? thankfully, they weren’t in the pantry cupboard.

one morning, i opened one of the drawers for a knife to butter my toast and inside the trap was a chubby mouse with beady eyes, neck snapped, looking up at me with a heartbroken face askingwhy?”

i cried and closed the drawer, went hungry.

michael bore the responsibility of donning gloves, encasing those used traps inside paper bags he deposited into the trash bin. our neighbor sabra gave me a humane trap, one that would catch a mouse so it could be released, but there were too many mice coming in from the cold; i didn’t want an endless cycle.

but then i heard a mouse trying to free itself from the trap beneath the sink and i couldn’t bear the sound of struggle. wearing gloves, i picked up the trapped mouse and placed it in a box, left the house from the side porch and walked out to the front yard. i took the trap from the box and tried to lift the snapping mechanism upward with my thick fabric fingers.

the mouse was dazed, couldn't believe it was free; i couldn’t believe it was still alive. he settled into a divot in the lawn, trying to catch his breath again. i thought it a cruel irony if a neighborhood cat ate him after that harrowing brush with death, and so i covered him with a fallen leaf to shield him from hunters of land and sky.

i like to believe that he made it.
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kerry i thought i was the kind of person who couldn't bear to kill another creature. it turns out i was wrong.

it started with the sunflower seeds, then the dog biscuits. they liked to hang out behind the toaster oven. we would hear potato chip bags rustling, occasionally falling off the shelf onto the floor.

i was surprised by how furious i was at these little critters. my grandmother used to collect anything mouse-related and i grew up finding them adorable. but it was the smell, the little pellets on the counter, even one on the sponge by the sink--it felt like an insult. i didn't hesitate whatsoever to buy traps. not the basic snap-traps (too gruesome) but a little plastic tunnel with the trap inside. bait and wait, throw in the garbage like any other waste.

the first thing i did when moving into my current house is mouse-proof.
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