Wednesday, February 4, 2009
The Best Laid Plans . . .
(For previous installments of The Best Laid Plans click here.)
We had a run in or two with the little furry invaders and never knew when they'd show up again. They are funny like that, I guess. One tiny booger bit the dust early in the process and who knew how many friends he had hanging around. Plus, we were sure that he was part of a litter, or brood or whatever you call it. And where there is a litter, there is a mommy, right?!
I was at the computer and my husband was watching tv. He was watching the race/game/hunting show/military channel (it's all just a big boring blur to me when he has the tv on) when we both heard scurrying. Neither of us moved. We just looked at each other and waited for the tell-tale snap.
Days prior we had broken down and gone the old-fashioned way. We bought the wooden snap traps and slathered peanut butter all over the dern things. Twice The Calm One came home to find that the traps had been licked clean. As in no peanut butter in sight. But this time it was different.
Our buddy, and I use that term lightly, you understand, had gotten a little careless and a loud snap caught our attention. It caught a little more than that on the little dude. I'm just sayin'.
I remained rooted to my seat. I was not about to check out the goods. The sound was enough. The Calm One and I grinned at one another in triumph. His grin was bigger than mine. I must admit to feeling a twinge of nausea, but prompltly squelched it. I was so tired of the univited guests!
"Wanna see it? I can bring it over to you." He asked already knowing the answer, but asking anyway.
"Um, that'd be a big NO." I responded.
He got up and checked the trap. Sure enough a big ol' mouse was the latest to fall victum to the snap trap. The Calm One held it up for closer inspection and moved toward me. I gave him the look and he headed the other direction. Wise move on his part. Just sayin'.
We speculated on whether or not this was the mommy or just one in a long line of invaders we'd have to deal with. And we discussed how to best dispose of the, um, evidence, if you will. I'd heard of mice that survive those traps and run away after being let off the proverbial hook. I didn't want to take the chance. The Calm One having an up-close and personal view of the situation was sure that the big booger was dead. He'd decided to empty and reuse the trap.
How very frugal of him.
Not to be anti-climactic, but we've had no further dealings with furry creatures of any type. And no evidence. Somebody got the big hint and alerted the others.
I am not holding my breath however. Winter is far from over and we have lots of fields around the house.