Hi, I'm bringing up a new topic: mice.
Chapter One
I'm on the humane mouse patrol, since extremely large-eyed mice have settled in behind our stove, thinking it's just fine to scoot around the counter tops, make biscuits, brew tea, not do the dishes, and shit on the burners. So I bought these little live traps (Hiram co-op people may remember them -- gray boxes with a trap door, very humane and effective). The Trapped Mouse Tally is now at eight and climbing, since the largest-eyed mouse I've ever seen (it's a fucking mutant, I swear) has figured out how to get the bait and escape, and he's telling all his friends. He's a brave bastard too -- doesn't even wait till I leave the room.
Chapter Two
Landlord Lad Grove (that's his real name, and he's a lawyer) leaves me a note this week, announcing that he's coming to inspect the apartment for "cleaniness, insects, and rodents" (uh-oh) and he leaves an industrial sized box of D-Con, which promises to "kill rodents after one feeding." That means, I think, that a neighbor also has mouseguests and decided to bitch to Lad about it, so now Lad is playing inspector. The dilemma: do I hide my live traps and say, "mice? what mice? we don't have no stinkin mice," thereby circumventing having to put down poison (which the ferrets, James, or Paul will inevitably find and eat)? Do I say, "Lad, what the hell is up with your name?" Do I slip D-Con into his coffee as he deems our apartment a "filthy rodent den?"
posted by Jen at 3:03 PM link/comments
