So it was yesterday that I saw this tiny new member of our household making itself more popular, shuffling about in its curiosity. With no intention to hurt the bugger, but with a desire to get closer, I tried trapping it. It was one of those rare times in my life when I not only succeeded, but did so on the first try, and did so with no fore-planning, and with a tiny steel bowl. After a few hours I let it escape; I wanted to keep it, and in some way fill that void of a pet that has existed since Ben Hur departed in 2007.
A day later, i.e. today, I found the aforementioned thought nonsense. Mice = sleepless nights. Mice = chaos. Mice = paper for food (my precious books!). Mice = more mice. So I trapped it again, this time with a mug in the bathroom; again a first attempt WIN. Before I left it somewhere faraway, I thought of doing something worthy. I gassed it - with research smoke; harmless fun. It got stoned pretty good. All in the name of science.
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