Lagniappe What light through yonder window
This epic undertaking has been thrown a furry curve in recent weeks as I have been dealing with a seasonal mouse problem.
This nothing new, the house is old. There is, no doubt, one main way for them to come in and warm up and …stay.
As an animal lover, I have qualms about dispatching God’s Little Friends. But God never had them in His silverware drawer, bare footed, huffing on the spoons and chewing His good spatulas. They have chewed candles (both beeswax and birthday) and garbage bags(?!) in one drawer and slept on cloth grocery bags in another. I carelessly left butter, wrapped in plastic, out one night. Next morning. I saw a small chewed spot and a little divot where a tongue had lapped up as much as possible. I hope the gallbladder pains were epic.
Any ‘natural’ attempt to shoo them away has been a dud. ‘Mice hate the smell of vinegar. Mice hate the smell of bay leaves’ No… no they don’t.
The latest stunt has been the plundering of my soap. Yep. Soap. Gnaw marks excoriate my Lever 2000 morning and night. The soap scent is quite sweet – how that translates as a taste will remain a mystery!
This last may make traps and warfarin seeds redundant. Repeated mouth and tummy-fulls of soap cannot make for a happy ending. Then I shall have my own CSI episode : ‘The Corpse that Lathered’