Ding Dong the Mouse is Gone!

Humanely too, I might add!  So after days of evading the bait under the floorboards, the chocolate laden traps and my threats of strangulation.  Mr Mousekovich has been evicted.

My husband has a little office/library and I went in there today to get a book and there he was running across the top of my French cookery books – Sacrebleu.  I instantly slammed the door shut and then really didn’t know what I was going to do next.

Other than try to hit him with either my husbands pc, or a copy of the complete works of Jane Austen, I was at a loss as to what I was going to do next.  After a bit of shouting at him and flinging things around, he darted straight up the curtains.  The only other thing of any use in the room was the tiny net used to clean out the goldfish!

I really had no idea what I was going to do, but I lifted the net and poked at the curtains.  He suddenly shot off the top and flung himself onto the ground.  At a speed I haven’t moved at since I was probably 10 years old, I shot out my arm with the fishing net and blow me down didn’t I catch the little bugger under the net!

I honestly couldn’t have done that if I tried.  However, the next dilemma, what do I do now.  I have a mouse jumping around under a net that I have clamped onto the floor.  There was no way that I was going to inflict Jane Austen on him at this close range.  Meanwhile our daughter is pushing and knocking at the door shouting “what you doing mammy, let me in”.

Again with the reflexes of a cat, I grabbed a clipboard.  Somehow managed to shimmy it under the net without letting him out and got the whole thing manoeuvred to the window.  However, I couldn’t let go to open the window, I couldn’t let go to open the door and our daughter is too little to do either.  So my only option was to open the window latch with my teeth and push it up fully with the edge of the clipboard.

Then little mouse was chucked out the window.  That sounds cruel.  It’s a low window, almost at ground level and it wasn’t as cruel as a trap or Jane Austen on the head would have been.  Anyway he took off at speed down the garden and hasn’t been seen or heard from, inside the house since.

So I think I might have to add mouse catcher to CV and put an advert offering my new-found skill in the local services section.  It was possibly one of the biggest flukes of my life and I was really rather chuffed at myself.  So to any other mice that may have been thinking of moving into our cosy farmhouse and happen to be reading this.  Lodgers are not accepted here and those who choose to squat may be subjected to the Jane Austen treatment!

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