I've determined that I don't have a rat in the lair... it's a mouse.
I know this because I saw it clearly the other day. I saw it clearly because it's no longer afraid enough of me to run at full speed when it makes its sojourn from my pantry to behind the fridge and back again... It was more of a slow amble than anything. I pose no threat. I instill no fear in this mouse.
I've been diligent about not leaving food and trash out. I cleaned the lair. The mouse is still around. He leaves little mouse turds in the corner by the pantry. Thanks, asshole.
After much procrastination, I got a humane trap from K-Mart. I put it out, and the mouse ignored it. Good job, humane trap. Be that as it may, I didn't stress... He'll eventually go away when he gets hungry, because there's nothing around to eat, right?
Right?
This morning I woke up, read Hagakure and jumped in the shower. Hot water blasting, I reach down to grab the soap... and it's gone. A full bar of Irish Spring, fresh out of the box on Monday morning... GONE. There are only two logical explanations:
A) My building manager is a perv, snuck into my lair during the day and stole my soap.
B) Having nothing else to eat, the mouse at my fucking soap.
Since I've been in this building for a couple of years, and nothing has inexplicably vanished from the lair until the mouse showed up, I'm leaning toward B.
I was unaware that mice eat soap. He must have dragged it off because, even though he's big for a mouse, he's still a fucking MOUSE, and is about as large as a newish bar of soap, which this was.
The upside was I had a value pack, so it wasn't a big deal to just crack open a new box. But now I apparently live in a world in which I have to think through every goddamn thing like I'm playing chess against this mouse... I put the soap in the sink where, I hope, there aren't sufficient paw-holds for it to get at.
I really didn't care about the spaghetti... I wasn't gonna eat it, anyway. But I'm drawing the line at soap-eating. This fucker has got to go.
I told the building maintenance guy about the rodent a week ago. He said he'd take care of it. But these are the same people who allowed my bathroom ceiling to collapse TWICE after I told them a million times about the gathering condensation. Once, maybe... but fucking TWICE?! My point is, we're not talking about a stellar track record; I'm not holding my breath for a crack SWAT team of mouse hunters to show up at my door anytime soon.
I'm going to have to take justice in my own hands. Mouse, if you're reading this: YOU ATE MY SOAP, AND NOW YOU DIE.
4 comments:
I had a mouse once and bought a “humane” trap… where the door was meant to slam shut when the mouse entered, so I could let it go in a field or something HUMANE. I kept checking the trap… the door remained open… days later there was a smell… The mouse was in there… stuck, dead, had starved to death. Nothing humane about that.
Similarly, it's my intention - if and when I catch him - to release this mouse at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. I've seen hawks circling overhead, so it could be a death sentence. But he has to go!
You seem to vent at lot of aggression on small creatures. Mice… spiders… Imagine the fury if you ran into a hybrid of the two…
http://www.austmus.gov.au/factSheets/mouse_spider.htm
Gah... those are some creepy ass spiders. Keep them in Australia!
I vent on small creatures because I'm a city kid, and those are usually the only kind I see. If I lived in Alaska, eventually I'd start bitching about the bears and moose.
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