Unwelcome roommates

Last night, after my cat once again failed to catch the mouse that has been living off of peanuts from a plastic bag he tore open months ago in my spare room, my neighbor (Modeste. He’s 13 and so, generally up for whatever I ask him to do. His past adventures in wildlife in my house include removing dead bats and lizards.) and I set out to find where exactly it was calling home.

I knew it was somewhere in the corner where I had been piling empty boxes for the past three months. Stupid idea. But I didn’t realize how stupid it was until Modeste held up the box in which my water filter came to show me the two-inch hole the mouse had chewed in the quarter-inch thick cardboard. And the three mouse babies nestled inside.

Operation Reclaim my House from Mice started after class today. Two trash bags and four trips to throw out dirt after I’d swept and I think it’s back to being just me and my lazy cat in my house.