As you may know, I am now an expert in the art of killing mice and disposing of them. I am not at all happy about this, but I don’t have a choice in the matter. They are dirty little varmints–they leave excrement everywhere and if you kill them, the last thing they do is poop once more. So in my long quest to deal with this, I have tried traditional traps, which I find horrible to empty and difficult and scary to set. The last straw was when I twice caught mice by their legs and had them dragging the trap around the kitchen.
This drove me to try “humane” traps, some of which did occasionally work, but I soon wished they didn’t. You want to let the little critters out somewhere where they won’t immediately come right back in, so you kind of have to wait until you can leave the house and drive somewhere — which is certainly not in the middle of the night when they usually get caught in the things. Well, half the time they are dead by the next day and even those that get out alive are in such pitiful condition from fear (did I mention they poop all the time?) that you wonder if they will survive in their “new home.” The cruelty of these “humane” traps was quite evident after a few tries.
So I went back to the store. And I found a really good solution (no, I don’t have stock in this company) — plastic Victor traps that look like a big chunky clothespin. Easy to set, just as lethal as traditional traps, very easy to empty: you squeeze the trap open on the opposite end from where the mouse in caught. I have eliminated literally dozens of mice this summer. I feel like a butcher, but I’m confident it’s the best way under the circumstances.
However. Now and then things go wrong.
Last night one apparently got caught by the leg. I started hearing it rattling around behind the stove, and tried to be cold and cruel and wait for it to die (you have no idea how hard that is for me, much as I hate the little poop machines), but it didn’t. It just kept dragging the trap around behind the stove. So I geared up for the unpleasant task of attempting to free it. And I couldn’t get at it. Finally I went to bed. I really don’t have time for this — I’m in the midst of packing to move (to somewhere mouse-free — it was one of the first things I asked), so I went to bed and hoped it would–let me put this delicately–croak overnight. Well, damned if it didn’t. It’s still rattling around under the stove.