Standing at my kitchen sink, I start to turn around and throw away some onion skins when BAM, mid stride I Pele this poor mouse into the wall. He recovers not so quickly and runs under the fridge. Most of my family members would be practically hysterical at this moment because there is nothing more fearsome than a mouse. Personally, I just felt bad for the little guy, trying to stop his little heart from beating out of his chest, planning how he is going to make it back home.
(If you are wondering where this ridiculous rodent sympathy comes from, it’s my mother and disney; and watching lots of cat videos…)
So I quickly step out of my
closet kitchen to figure out how I’m going to keep this guy from eating my snacks while also telling Facebook my new tale.
Just accidentally kicked a mouse in my kitchen. Not quite sure how I feel about this yet. Startled, not too upset, slightly concerned for its well being…
Scratch that. Officially peed my pants as he sprinted from one side of the kitchen to the other.
Not sure if I should go the Cinderella route or more John Goodman in ‘Mouse Hunt’.
He was able to react faster than I was because before I knew what had happened he sprinted across to the other side of the kitchen back to his home behind the stove.
Now, I am new to the whole city living thing and understand that old buildings come with quirks. I emailed my landlord to let her know but told her that it didn’t bother me too much since I had been there over a week and this was the first time I had seen him. Then I went about my business as usual.
I decided to name his Gus and left him my bread crumbs
Mouse Update: Gus Gus has accepted my peace offering. We have an understand that he come out only when I am asleep or at work. The treaty was finalized over the acceptance of my sandwich crumbs last night. #callmecinderella
Gus and I lived in peace for about another week when in the middle of the night I heard rustling. My mattress sits on a boxspring still covered in plastic, so when I awoke to find this noise next to my head I was confused.
‘Gus’ decided tonight that he was scared of the dark and tried crawling into bed with me. Not cool.
Not cool indeed. I peaked over my bed and when my eyes adjusted I was staring right into the face of a terrorizer. No longer did the cute fluffy creature from my childhood exist, in his place was a out-of-control flea bag ready to destroy all comforts I had in my new home.
Where was Gypsy when I needed her feline instincts to protect me?!
I immediately emailed my landlord again teller her what had happened and requested some assistance in vanquishing my new foe. The exterminator came a few days later and set up traps all over. I was worried about having poison or dead mice stinking up my cabinets but found out they use a non-toxic (to humans or pets, I’m not quite sure how they do it) trap where they take the ‘food pellets’ back to their dens and pass peacefully in their sleep. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.
It’s been almost 2 weeks since my welcome wagon arrived scurrying it’s way into my kitchen. I have no clue if they have ever been able to eradicate the mice because seriously this building is over 100 years old and is next to a couple dumpsters. I know that Gypsy will be happy to have a few play things when she comes. I just hope she doesn’t fling them around the room in a fit of joy, throwing the poor thing into my face or something.
Hugs & Kittens,