I’m a city girl by birth and temperament. As far as I’m concerned, the country is a nice place to visit for a few hours, maybe a few days, but no more. The suburbs are like being exiled to Elba. I’ve been exiled a very long time, and I’m getting fed up with it. Unfortunately, unless I win the lottery (note to self: you have to play to win!) or score a 7 figure book deal (Terri, are you listening?), I’ll be stuck in suburbia for the rest of my life.
Four-legged natives are one of the reasons I dislike suburbia. I’m convinced they know it and go out of their way to make my life miserable. Right now I have, not a village, but an entire city of rabbits living under my back deck. They multiply like -- well, like rabbits and eat everything from my grass to the zucchini flowers. What they don’t eat, they use as an outdoor toilet. The squirrels gobble up the green tomatoes before they have time to mature and ripen. Nothing I’ve tried gets rid of either of these predators, and believe me, I’ve tried everything, spending a fortune at the gardening center.
Now I’ve also got an albino opossum, possibly a pregnant one, living under the deck along with the rabbits. I guess they’ve formed a sort of détente because I thought opossums ate baby bunnies. I’ve also had chipmunks and birds in my attic over the past year. However, nothing has been as bad as a mouse in the house.
I’ve lived in four suburban houses my adult life and never had a mouse in the house until six years ago. Remember, I said I’m a city girl. So I didn’t even recognize the evidence of a mouse at first. I thought those black things on the counter were rye seeds from the bag of bagels. No, I later discovered that’s what mouse droppings look like. Euuwww! I haven’t eaten bagels with rye seeds since.
It turns out the mouse had decided to make himself at home in a kitchen drawer where I keep take-out menus, chip clips, and coupons. Don’t ask me why. We caught that mouse six years ago and ever since have kept traps in various locations in the basement and kitchen. A year ago I discovered a dead mouse in a trap under the utility sink. At first I thought the sewer had backed up. It’s amazing how much one dead mouse can stink!
Anyway, fast-forward to the other day. I opened the drawer with the take-out menus and found some mints I’d tossed in the trash, cracker crumbs, and those rye seed looking droppings (I always thought animals didn’t go potty where they live, but what do I know?) -- evidence of another mouse, one who’d managed to avoid all the traps in the basement and kitchen cabinets. We did eventually catch the little bugger, but I’m still amazed that six years later a mouse had decided to camp out in the exact same drawer as his predecessor.
Now I’ve also got an albino opossum, possibly a pregnant one, living under the deck along with the rabbits. I guess they’ve formed a sort of détente because I thought opossums ate baby bunnies. I’ve also had chipmunks and birds in my attic over the past year. However, nothing has been as bad as a mouse in the house.
I’ve lived in four suburban houses my adult life and never had a mouse in the house until six years ago. Remember, I said I’m a city girl. So I didn’t even recognize the evidence of a mouse at first. I thought those black things on the counter were rye seeds from the bag of bagels. No, I later discovered that’s what mouse droppings look like. Euuwww! I haven’t eaten bagels with rye seeds since.
It turns out the mouse had decided to make himself at home in a kitchen drawer where I keep take-out menus, chip clips, and coupons. Don’t ask me why. We caught that mouse six years ago and ever since have kept traps in various locations in the basement and kitchen. A year ago I discovered a dead mouse in a trap under the utility sink. At first I thought the sewer had backed up. It’s amazing how much one dead mouse can stink!
Anyway, fast-forward to the other day. I opened the drawer with the take-out menus and found some mints I’d tossed in the trash, cracker crumbs, and those rye seed looking droppings (I always thought animals didn’t go potty where they live, but what do I know?) -- evidence of another mouse, one who’d managed to avoid all the traps in the basement and kitchen cabinets. We did eventually catch the little bugger, but I’m still amazed that six years later a mouse had decided to camp out in the exact same drawer as his predecessor.
We bought some more mouse traps, and I’m now buying lottery tickets. And still not eating rye bread or bagels.
What about the rest of you? Any critter phobias?
What about the rest of you? Any critter phobias?
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