The good news is that after I closed up the holes behind the dishwasher, we haven’t seen the mouse again, despite being up far too late and far too early many days this week.
I know it’s only Wednesday. Shut up.
The bad news is that now it smells like our dining room table is downwind of an abattoir. Which, perhaps it is, after a manner, though I don’t plan to be eating mousemeat pie any time soon.
The further bad news is that our building management company doesn’t quite seem to know what to do about it. Turn on your exhaust fans, they say.
We’re doing that, plus leaving a door cracked to pull in some fresh air, plus we’ve got enough candles going that our dining room table looks like a cathedral altar on Easter. So now it smells like something died by being smothered in a ball of Yankee Candle wax.
All of which leads me to some questions for the mouse. OK, one question, really…
Did you not have more than five minutes of food stored up in your nest?
Otherwise, how did it die the day after I closed up its entrance into our humble abode? Is there not enough space in all the walls that surround our kitchen to establish a granary that could support you and your kin for, I don’t know, 10 years? How much do you little buggers eat, anyway?
This, combined with the fact that we neither found food missing or chewed on nor mouse poop in any of our pantry cupboards, makes these vermin quite the mystery. Why were you in our house? Were you the ones recording all those episodes of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on our DVR? Were you stealing our Chuck E. Cheese tokens? Or are you just well mannered mice who couldn’t bear to poop in your own humble abode, and so had to bring that shit into our house?
Even if you don’t answer those questions, I’ll give you a passing grade if you just answer this one question:
When will the stinking end?
I realize that questions like these have perplexed people throughout time and it brings to mind something I learned while reading 3B books about ancient Egypt. Turns out Egyptians weren’t fond of mice either, what with their food stealing, disease bearing and poop leaving habits. In fact, because Egyptians hadn’t invented the mouse trap yet–somehow developing a written language, centralized government, and timeless architecture left them with no time for such trivialities–they would keep snakes in their houses to fend off the mice.
No, I don’t know what all those sacred Egyptian cats were doing. Likely lounging around temples, napping and getting drunk on beer…pretty much like modern cats in McMansions.
But, the point is that Egyptians considered it preferable to live in a snakepit than in a mouse hole.
And now I understand the wisdom of their age.
Think my neighbors would mind if I stuffed a few snakes into our walls?
Or maybe I should just open a window.