After spotting the four-legged fury creature that was leaving turds all over my cowboy boots and running clothes run for its life into the safety of the bathroom closet, we discovered a hole that was the mouse's entry to the buffet of the apartment. Patching up the hole, we again slept soundly, until last night.
At 2:30 in the morning, I heard crinkling noises. We awoke and investigated to find a tattered package of coco-nuts, though not the type that would induce memories of suntan lotion on a tropical beach or refreshing drinks sipped effortlessly while lounging on vacation. Chocolate-covered nuts had been "moused," though just in the beginning stages.
How was the bastard entering? A check in the closet showed that it was serving as a toilet to the critter, and a new gateway. Like in Shawshank Redemption, the mouse tirelessly worked to dig a new hole to freedom. Unlike Shawshank Redemption, the mouse was not offering to do my taxes.
We sealed up the hole and set two traps in the closet. We would catch that rodent.
An hour of restless sleep later, I again heard rumblings. We turned on the light, and the sounds stopped. We checked the wall for damage, armed with the knowledge that our intruder was a good little digger. We didn't see anything that was cause for concern.
After 20 more minutes of lying in darkness, the sounds were unavoidable. I thought I heard something coming from the left side as well as the right, but I figured I was just hearing things. The sound to my right was definitely louder. As Gordon was shuffling around boxes in the corner, I got his attention and pointed to the bathroom closet. My instrict was to quietly point, as if the mouse could understand what I saying and become alarmed that we were on to it.
Gordon grabbed a big hammer, entered the bathroom, and closed the dorr. I heard, "Whack, whack, whack, Whack, WHACK." Silence.
"Is is dead?" I cried out sheepishly.
"Yes, it's dead."
"Is there blood."
"You shouldn't ask those questions. Yes. There is blood. Lots of blood."
He cleaned up the blood and used bleach. As he was cleaning, he said, "I think I may have whacked it a bit too hard. There is a lot of splatter."
I asked if he thought there was just the one. We figured when he was shaking up the boxes, the mouse dashed across the room to the closet and was puzzled that his entrance had been closed, allowing for the surprise attack.
I was somewhat relieved that our rodent ordeal was over. He showered again, at my urging. Come on - a guy says there was a lot of splatter. That calls for a deep cleansing.
We tried to sleep for 20 more minutes before I had to get up for work. I was wound up. Got up, and Gordon went to grab some clothes and said, "Shh. I hear something."
He sifted through the boxes again. I was now in the living room getting my bag ready.
"Go in the other room," I hear. He comes in and grabs the hammer.
"Another one?"
He nods in confirmation. I am sitting as high off the ground as I can in the apartment. Waiting for the too familiar thudding noises. I heard, "He's gone." I see Gordon exiting the bedroom, on the tails of a second rodent intruder who found refuge in the couch that was supporting my weight.
This is no way to live. I have to be sharp this week. I've got 4 companies reporting earnings and two huge projects that have to be completed. There's no time to be kept awake by Minnie and Mickey at Disneyland.
Posted by christina at November 01, 2005 07:03 AM