I hate mice.
I found one in my boot once – I was barefoot when I put it on – something squishy in the toe – shook out my boot and there it was. Ack.
This time I put on my glove (you know those big, cheap (not the work kind) winter ones) – and my middle finger pushed up against something soft, squishy, and a little warm. My first thought was “How did that guinea fowl manage to poo in my glove?” (we currenty have a guinea in the house – named Glen…. or maybe Glenda… I can’t tell.)
Then – YUK!
– I hate mice – I shook out my glove – nothing.
So I started to work it out of the finger by squeezing it like a tube of toothpaste – more yuk – when it finally came out – there it was – small; barely alive. I wonder how long it’s been there? Did it get there on its own or did one of the cats toss it there? Well, like I said, I hate mice – I tossed it out into the snow (I’m still too much of a coward to kill it outright – God forgive me) I figured it wouldn’t take long outside; I’d heard that freezing is not altogether unpleasant.
I prayed for forgiveness.
Off to do the morning chores – Arrow (the Pyrenees) seems especially happy to see me and jumps right up to look me in the eye – I’m SO glad he doesn’t lick people.
Water the birds, say hello to Martha (an ancient duck), note that there are a bunch of guinea feathers (sans guinea) in the yard – it must have skipped going in the coop with the rest and then not made it through the night. Arrow will happily make a meal of any guinea that expires.
Collect eggs – back to the house
– say –
where’s that mouse I left in the snow? – I look around – nothing but the miniscule shrew I put outside yesterday – I wish Wednesday wouldn’t keep catching shrews – she never eats them – and besides, they eat bugs – anything that will get rid of bugs for me is OK in my book. Anyhow, they also don’t last very long in the house (high metabolisms and all) so I have yet to find a live one.
Hmmmm, no mouse in the snow – maybe it crawled off….
Back in the house – Wendy sitting by the boots staring at small brown shape on rug – the mouse! What is wrong with you Wendy? She’s just watching it – eat it or don’t but quit bringing them into the house!!!! I scoop it up in a dustpan (I hate mice) and toss it outside again.
Let’s give her 5 minutes and go down to check again.
Back down for the next load of laundry and… wait for it…. CAN YOU GUESS? Wendy has brought the mouse back in AGAIN. Oh well, at least it looks like the poor little thing has expired (I hate mice, but I don’t truly hate them you know – I mean, I don’t actually wish them harm – I just wish they’d stay away from my house, and my feed, and my hay,….and I especially wish they would stop trying on my clothes.
OK Wendy you win – keep it. ($20 says I’ll be tossing it outside again when I come down to put in the next load of laundry – she didn’t kill herself it so it’s unlikely she’ll eat it. Cats hardly ever eat somethig they didn’t kill themselves (or have a friend kill for them).