My plans of rodent eradication went thusly:
Night one: Lay out six pieces of cookie, six pieces of American cheese, and one dab of peanut butter (on a paper plate, completely surrounded by a mini-moat of Dawn soap to eliminate the possibility of ant issues). The following morning, which was this morning, I went to see what had happened. Three pieces of cheese and three pieces of cookie were gone, the peanut butter being inconclusive. I found some of the food in the corner behind my microwave (since the entrance/exit for these varmint seem to be my stove, inches away) that the mouse/mice left. That seems to be a hideout for him.
Night two: Lay out traps with bait, but unset. Hopefully, the bait would be taken and the mice would be more accustomed to the offered bait as well as the traps (I don't want trap-shy enemies, do I now?). Was supposed to be tonight.
Night three: Lay out traps, set, and fully baited. War has begun!
However, I have already jumped ahead to Phase Three. Why? It's partially because of the impatience of my roommates, but mostly because of the fact that, during dinner and only minutes after I left the kitchen, I heard a mouse scurrying about. I got up, and cornered him behind my microwave. A similar episode occured moments after writing my last blog post last night, but he got away last night...I was determined the outcome would be different this time.
A chase ensued...across the back of my sink and under a dish rack! Oh no, did he get away? No! He was still underneath it.
My enemy was cornered. He would not escape alive.
I filled my sink with water, inches from his hideout. I was prepared to scoop him with the bottom of the rack (which, the way it is constructed, actually aided me quite a bit) into the flooded sink. I, be-gloved by this point, would drown him with my own hands.
But no, he runs away with far too much speed. I'm not quite sure if he jumped or just ran until the counter ended, but what I do know is that he fell right into my trash can.
:-D :-D :-D
I had him! I took up the garbage bag and ran outside. I took him to my yard to have a lot of open ground in case he should attempt escape again. It was unlikely, though. His time was up.
I had already prepared to dispatch any mouse if I were to catch one. It was easy. Some months ago I found this big, flattish rock. Simple!
I grabbed the rock, and set the bag down on the ground. I would dig for him if I had to...but no, he shifted, and scurried inside the bag, toward the edge of bag and away from the little garbage that was in there. I could now see his shape clearly.
I raised the rock, and brought it down on the small rodent body. Hard.
I lifted the rock. The bag had split open. Only what can be described as blood and guts had oozed out.
And now that I've thought about it, this is the first mammal, even the first vertebrate, I have ever killed. I've always done very well with any situation that I can translate into a war framework, and man vs. mice works excellently. (You know that scene in The Matrix, when Agent Smith goes, "Find them and destroy them!"? Yeah, that's basically been my approach....)
While it was only a mere mouse, and there may be more to come, I know I'm ready, and I won this battle. I love to outsmart, catch, or defeat any creatures that challenge me, and I always have. This is no exception. I couldn't keep from laughing. (Remember the fire scene in Castaway? Yeah, I was slightly like that....) I'm in touch with my inner caveman in earnest (as I'm usually more in touch with that than most males anymore). He may have been just providing for himself, and perhaps even his family, but you know what? It sucks for you, because you threaten my family, you take my food (which is not rightfully yours), and you threaten to bring disease and sickness. All that means that you're gonna die, and I ain't gonna feel bad about it. No pansy-ness allowed here! It is war between man and beast. Besides, next time you wanna come in my house, you knock first, kapeesh?
Pikachu has met his end. Next up for the chopping block is Pinky!
I can tell you this. I've long wanted to go hunting. And, having thought about it, I've also thought that I might like to hunt a bear. And right now I'm going to say I really do want to go kill a bear.
Because this feels awesome!
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