mouse in the house

A couple of months ago I was home alone and up late working on the computer in the basement. I noticed a shadow moving across the wall behind the computer screen and discovered it was a mouse creeping along the top shelf of the computer desk. Now I am not one of those squeal-and-jump-on-a-chair type of women (raising 5 boys I’ve had plenty of experience with creatures, including quite a prolific colony of mice Jesse owned), but I was surprised to see him on a shelf in the basement.

We do have mice outside, but they generally stay outside, unless someone happens to bring them in inadvertently. There was that time several years ago that Hannah scooped up two of them with the dog food out in the garage and dumped them in Penny’s bowl in the kitchen, giving her a near heart attack and proving Penny to be a great hunter (she caught them!).
Anyway, I set a trap down by the computer. Several weeks went by without any sign of the mouse so I finally put the trap away and talked myself into believing that he must have found his way up the stairs and back outside again.

Then two nights ago, just after we went to bed, I heard a terrible commotion in the bathroom/hall. Thinking Missy had brought in another bird (which puzzled me, since Hannah is the usual gift recipient and is away at school now), I went to investigate and found her out there batting a live mouse around. The mouse stayed stunned enough as to not run too far before he got batted again, so pretty much stayed in the vicinity. I called Isaac up to consult as to the best course of action. He voted for catch-&-release. Frankly, mice don’t rank right up there with birds in my book, but, well, I’d let him rescue it if he wanted to. Before he had a chance, however, Missy chased it under my bed and decided she’d had enough adventure for one night and calmly left. Oh great, now there’s a mouse under my bed, how am I going to have any sweet dreams tonight, wondering what he’ll be chewing…

I set a trap in my bedroom, worrying Isaac, “I hope it doesn’t kill it.” (We usually use a live trap, but it has been broken for a year or so). I left the bedroom door open just in case Missy came back or in case the mouse wanted to find his way back outside, and I fell asleep listening for scritch-scratching under the bed. I half expected to find him in a bottom drawer or one of my shoes the next morning. Then I got to thinking, if that other mouse is still in the house, I now have two. Two mice loose in my house… The chances that they find each other are pretty good. The chances that they start a family are fifty-fifty. I had visions of another prolific colony, this one running loose in the house. I remembered reading a story in The New Yorker last year about a lonely man who bought a snake and of course mice to feed it. When the snake died, the mice eventually overran his house, filling it with tens of thousands… I could see it now, mice everywhere, Isaac begging, “But they’re so cute!”

There was no sign of the mouse the next morning, but last night he got hungry enough to chance the peanut butter in the trap and, brace yourself, Isaac, it did kill him.