Heather and I have mice in our garage. I'm not talking cute little mickey-mouse type mice. Not Stewart Little. Nope. Just plain old rodents. Truthfully, they've been there for a while but we pretty much just hoped that they'd go away. No such luck. Last night, however, we came home to find that our peanut-butter baited traps were quite effective...two mousetraps, two dead mice. We got 'em. The problem is that now we have to get them out of the traps and set them again. Now I may be a farmgirl, I'm willing to kill them with a broom if I have to, and I don't crawl up on the table when they run by but somehow the idea of possibly touching one, even a dead one, to let it out of the trap, completely grosses me out. I guess a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do...here's to two more dead mice tomorrow.
4 comments:
I know how you feel, Stacey! I used to have to set traps in my car but I really didn't know what I would do if I was driving and actually saw a live one running around my feet! (I also got other people to "empty" the traps when they were full).
Oh Sheryl, I think I'd probably have hit the ditch if one would have run around while I was driving!
Okay, so here's a quick update. I'm feeling pretty darn proud of myself! I emptied both traps and reset them. It only took a little pep talk and a trip to walmart to buy gloves. Really. And guess what!? I caught another one today!! I hope that's all of them!
The mice in our garage tend to eat themselves to death on either treated grass seed, or other weird things. So no traps needed, but still need to clean up the dead mice. They also leave signs of their presence all over the place. Yuck.
If you have any more mice, you might want to consider releasing a snake! =) Or does that defeat the purpose?
When I lived in Toronto, one apartment gave out those glue traps to all their tennants to catch the mice that had infested the building. The trouble with those traps is of course it doesn't kill the mouse it just keeps them in place and you're forced to deal with a stuck live mouse starting at you while you figure out it's demise.
Nothing like starting one in the eyes and hearing the "SQUEEK, SQUeek, Squeek, squeek...." as it falls down the garbage shaft from the third floor.
From then on I turned the responsibility of getting rid of them to my room mate who seemed to be a little less bothered by the whole ordeal.
Now it's traps and gloves for me as well. Yuck!
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