Mouse!!!!!
Originally posted @ http://scruffy-duck.net
I had a mouse.
This is that mouse.
Last week sometime I hear scrabbling in the middle of the night and jump out of bed with my penguin torch to try and see what it was. No sign of anything, I’m paranoid. Next noise, the scrabbling it muffled and on the other side of the room. Actually, in the wall between my bedroom and kitchen. I know the sound well, when I was a kid we had mice living in the roof of my bedroom. It was quite soothing at times.
Not so much now, cause it wasn’t confined to the wall, I swear the mouse was in my bedroom.
A few nights later, and I went to get some water from the kitchen, and saw a small brown blur shot from under my desk and went under the sofa. I didn’t get a good look at it because I was half asleep and didn’t have my glasses on, so it was either a mouse or a really big spider.
I was hoping it was a mouse.
I lifted the sofa up and looked around but I didn’t see where it went to left it. The next day I tidied my living room up, because it had become a bit like an all you can eat buffet for a mouse, made up of crumbs, nuts, crusts and discarded aero mousse pots.
Then I didn’t hear from it for a couple of days and my mum came over yesterday and laid a trap for me, with a bit of mars bars on it.
It went off about ten last night and I almost didn’t go and look at it for a moment, because, argh, mouse, but curiosity always gets the better of me. And the mouse wasn’t in the trap but lying close to it, and he sort of flopped a bit. The guilt kicked in immediately. I did the argh! Mouse! dance and got a carrier bag to pick it up, but it wasn’t dead, just, concussed and it nearly got away until I put it in a box. Not before it touched my foot!! I’d just had a shower.
So, I’ve got a mouse in a box and it had a bloody nose, and was a bit floppy, but it didn’t try and get out of the box, and I actually didn’t know what to do. Cause it wasn’t dead and I felt so guilty cause it was bleeding and it could’ve been dead and I never wanted to kill it, I just didn’t want it gallivanting about my flat. Or beating my hamster up if She-Ra managed to get on the floor (which is more often that I’d like to admit).
So I called my mum up again, at ten at night, yelling mouse emergency!! down the phone while I waited for her to pick up. She answered on the word emergency which probably wasn’t good to hear when you’re daughters are drama queens and you’ve already had a couple of heart attacks. Sorry mum. Anyway. She told me to take it outside, a few houses away from mine, and leave it there. Which was a perfectly obvious thing to do, but, you know, mouse in a box, with a bloody nose and fleas, kinda freaking out like a girl. More so than when I had to get that big spider the other month that was bigger than my hamster (okay, almost as big as my hamster).
My mum also told I shouldn’t take pictures but, er, I ignored her. Cause, while part of me is dancing around like Homer Simpson when he’s scared of something (or going eewwww), another part of me was also going, cool, mouse. So I took a few pictures, closed the boxed and hoped it didn’t feel better too soon, so I could put on my trainers and a jumper and go outside. In my pyjamas, having not brushed my hair after my shower with a old teabag box with a fucking mouse in it.
Weird things happen in Aberystwyth. Often to me.
Luckily, it’s qiet where I live, it was Monday, and the students are back yet, so no one was about as I went to the foot path a few houses away, opened the box, tipped the mouse out and watched it run away.
Before I ran away, and called my mum up to cry ‘mouse’ down the phone again. Before sending the word mouse to her in a text, and my sister. And facebook and twitter. Cause, arg, mouse. I’m still a bit, arg about it all. And of course, I don’t know if it’s had babies, that I’ve not orphaned, or if there is another in that hole in my kitchen wall. So I should set the trap again. Except I don’t want to kill a mouse, I just don’t want it living in my flat, making me paranoid and picking on my hamster.
We’ll see what happens.
Should probably have that hole filled up too…
I had a mouse.
This is that mouse.
Last week sometime I hear scrabbling in the middle of the night and jump out of bed with my penguin torch to try and see what it was. No sign of anything, I’m paranoid. Next noise, the scrabbling it muffled and on the other side of the room. Actually, in the wall between my bedroom and kitchen. I know the sound well, when I was a kid we had mice living in the roof of my bedroom. It was quite soothing at times.
Not so much now, cause it wasn’t confined to the wall, I swear the mouse was in my bedroom.
A few nights later, and I went to get some water from the kitchen, and saw a small brown blur shot from under my desk and went under the sofa. I didn’t get a good look at it because I was half asleep and didn’t have my glasses on, so it was either a mouse or a really big spider.
I was hoping it was a mouse.
I lifted the sofa up and looked around but I didn’t see where it went to left it. The next day I tidied my living room up, because it had become a bit like an all you can eat buffet for a mouse, made up of crumbs, nuts, crusts and discarded aero mousse pots.
Then I didn’t hear from it for a couple of days and my mum came over yesterday and laid a trap for me, with a bit of mars bars on it.
It went off about ten last night and I almost didn’t go and look at it for a moment, because, argh, mouse, but curiosity always gets the better of me. And the mouse wasn’t in the trap but lying close to it, and he sort of flopped a bit. The guilt kicked in immediately. I did the argh! Mouse! dance and got a carrier bag to pick it up, but it wasn’t dead, just, concussed and it nearly got away until I put it in a box. Not before it touched my foot!! I’d just had a shower.
So, I’ve got a mouse in a box and it had a bloody nose, and was a bit floppy, but it didn’t try and get out of the box, and I actually didn’t know what to do. Cause it wasn’t dead and I felt so guilty cause it was bleeding and it could’ve been dead and I never wanted to kill it, I just didn’t want it gallivanting about my flat. Or beating my hamster up if She-Ra managed to get on the floor (which is more often that I’d like to admit).
So I called my mum up again, at ten at night, yelling mouse emergency!! down the phone while I waited for her to pick up. She answered on the word emergency which probably wasn’t good to hear when you’re daughters are drama queens and you’ve already had a couple of heart attacks. Sorry mum. Anyway. She told me to take it outside, a few houses away from mine, and leave it there. Which was a perfectly obvious thing to do, but, you know, mouse in a box, with a bloody nose and fleas, kinda freaking out like a girl. More so than when I had to get that big spider the other month that was bigger than my hamster (okay, almost as big as my hamster).
My mum also told I shouldn’t take pictures but, er, I ignored her. Cause, while part of me is dancing around like Homer Simpson when he’s scared of something (or going eewwww), another part of me was also going, cool, mouse. So I took a few pictures, closed the boxed and hoped it didn’t feel better too soon, so I could put on my trainers and a jumper and go outside. In my pyjamas, having not brushed my hair after my shower with a old teabag box with a fucking mouse in it.
Weird things happen in Aberystwyth. Often to me.
Luckily, it’s qiet where I live, it was Monday, and the students are back yet, so no one was about as I went to the foot path a few houses away, opened the box, tipped the mouse out and watched it run away.
Before I ran away, and called my mum up to cry ‘mouse’ down the phone again. Before sending the word mouse to her in a text, and my sister. And facebook and twitter. Cause, arg, mouse. I’m still a bit, arg about it all. And of course, I don’t know if it’s had babies, that I’ve not orphaned, or if there is another in that hole in my kitchen wall. So I should set the trap again. Except I don’t want to kill a mouse, I just don’t want it living in my flat, making me paranoid and picking on my hamster.
We’ll see what happens.
Should probably have that hole filled up too…