Mouses like our house and while there is a place in the world for mice, it isn’t in our home.

Putting up a “no mus musculus allowed” sign doesn’t work, sealing up all visible holes doesn’t work and even having a Mazie dog isn’t a deterrent.  So we put out traps.

But we have the Darwin mouses who are able to carefully consume peanut butter or cheese bait from the mousetrap without harming a hair of their chinny chin chin. We have resorted to setting a trifecta of traps and still we find the bait consumed and the traps holding nothing more than the snickering of these mice.

But then there’s Edwin. We should’ve known Edwin wasn’t the sharpest mouse in the house when he came sauntering down the basement steps  with Mazie in hot pursuit.  For a mouse a hair’s breadth away from Mazie’s pearly whites, you’d think he’d be moving with more haste.

Edwin decided to explore the home office environs and,  in the non-survival of the fittest, hid under a piece of paper, in the corner, beside a box while Mazie was in half-hearted pursuit.

It was after the third time when Mazie was pawing at Edwin that we decided to intervene. Edwin wasn’t about to save himself, and we didn’t want mouse blood on our hands (or our carpets).  We took a bowl and put it over Edwin, then slid a clipboard under the bowl. Edwin, in his little igloo, was transported up the stairs, out the door and dropped ignominiously off the front porch.

Run, Edwin run! But not back into the house, or under the wheels of the S4 bus, or into the waiting arms of neighbor cat…

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