|50p for size comparision only: not a bribe|
You all know the story of the Christmas Mouse from a few years back. I was on my own for Christmas, so decided not to put up any decorations. Three days or so before Christmas Day, I was sitting in the sitting room, when I saw a mouse emerge from down the chimney (The fireplace was unused), run along the bottom of the wall, under the door and away into the hall. I went next morning - and this is the truth - to the garden centre and bought a Christmas tree, on the grounds that I had company for the festive season, albeit nothing more congenial than a diminutive rodent with no conversation to speak of.
A few days before this Christmas gone, while watching television, I noticed a sort of bulge on the aerial cable. It moved as I approached it. It was a mouse. It ran down the cable, along the bottom of the wall, under the door and away into the hall, just as its great-great-great-etc-grandfather had done all those years ago.
I didn't see it again, but found droppings from time to time in unfortunate places: kitchen and bedroom in particular. How do you catch a mouse? Every method is unpleasant in one way or another. Well, it disappeared for a week or so and then three-four days ago, the droppings started to re-appear. Damn. Last night, making ready for bed, I noticed in the corner behind the door a small dark shape. It was so indistinct that I fetched a torch to see what it was: a walnut? a FerreroRochet? a trilobite? No, it was a mouse, nose in corner, tail outward, motionless. Dead, it seemed. I picked it up by the tail using a grabber. Immediately it began to wriggle and squeak.
I carried it, dangling on the end of the grabber, to the bedroom window and released it into the darkness. Wee sleekit cow'rin' timorous beastie. At least there is no panic in MY breastie: I am mouse-poo free again.