Two Mouse-Keteers In Eisenberg.

One braver than the other...or not?

When one lives in the country, it is proper etiquette to keep animals. Cats, dogs, cows, horses, pigs and chickens create a lot of choice. Of course Bob and I have to go for something else. A mouse has taken up residence again in our home. Yes, we do have a cat who we ironically call Tigger, but as we overfeed her ( spoil her rotten ), she doesn't quite see the point of hunting for a mere mouse. No, that job is left for us...the mouse-keteers!

Those who have been ' blessed ' by a mouse, will know. Before you ever get to spot it, you smell it. For some reason they are worse than dogs. Marking their territory seems second nature and wherever they scurry they eh, mark. Good grief, every room ( even the toilet ) has been ticked off by the mouse.

It is a funny smell. Once you've smelled it you never fail to recognize it again. At first I blamed poor Bob and his dirty socks and shoes lying about. Oops, sorry Bob. A sort of sickly and acrid aroma...the mouse, not Bob's shoes!

Anyway, our mouse is faster than a speeding bullet and we only get to see a flash now and again. He ( somehow it seems fit to assume it is a he, considering all the marking ) is very small and even if he tried he couldn't hurt us. But, the thought of him jumping on the couch while I am sleeping is frankly

" Yeewh "

The other day he cornered himself behind our paper recycling basket. From a long distance away, I poked the the basket every so carefully with a broom and nearly had a heart attack when I saw how high the mouse jumped. High enough to jump on a couch.

Bob ( mouse-keteer #1 ) keeps on laughing at me and throwing one liners at random:

" A mouse is more scared of you than you are of it "

" Don't be such a ninny. It's only a mouse!

and just for those manly statements, I, mouse-keteer #2, holler like mad when there is a mouse sighting. The other day Bob had to reduce his time on Le Throne to catch the mouse. No such luck. The mouse has spunk and evades all our attempts to catch him. Even ham left dangling temptingly over a trap is ignored. Gosh, that little fellow has pet potential.

As soon as Bob and I are watching TV in the lounge, all snug on the couches, we hear our mouse go mad in the kitchen. How such a small thing can create such noise is simply amazing. Those little teeth must have a microphone built in. All you can hear over the sound from the TV is a constant gnawing.

Bob, as brave as he sounded earlier, makes sure that his feet aren't touching the floor in case the mouse wants to join us in front of the TV...and of course he asks me to go and see what our mouse is doing in the kitchen!

Life, is never boring in Eisenberg...

Biggi