Saturday, September 22, 2012

Say Cheese!

Being a relatively peaceable person, I am not prone to bouts of murderous desire first thing in the morning. Nevertheless, early in the morning the other morning, before it was even light out, I stumbled into the kitchen and found a mouse running around in the sink. Oh great, I thought. Here it is, six in the morning, I just woke up, and now I have to kill a mouse.

My sink is pretty deep, and there were a few dishes scattered around in it, so with the mouse hiding under a tupperware container, I proceeded to prepare Lewis's morning meal and ponder my options.

A friend of mine had only recently brought to my attention the recent outbreak of hantavirus associated with Yosemite National Park. Having simply driven through Yosemite five months prior, I figured there was little risk of me having contracted this deer mouse-born disease. However, some light research tipped me off to the fact that apparently the majority of hantavirus cases occur from mice in the home. My decision was clear: the mouse would have to die.

Just then, the mouse whom I mistakenly assumed was "stuck" in the sink, levitated from his confinement and scurried behind the toaster oven. Mouse in the sink: well contained, accompanied by my knowledge of its whereabouts. Mouse behind the toaster oven: one mad dash away from a nebulous hiding place only known by rodents. I had to act.

Grabbing a handy tupperware, I moved the toaster oven away from the wall. The mouse faked left. I blocked it with my hand. It ran right. I tried to cover it with the tupperware. It broke left and slipped past my hand, across the back of the sink, and hid behind the radio. I pulled the radio out. The mouse stared at me. I hazed it from the left. As is broke right, I brought the tupperware down over it.

It jumped and squeaked. My heart melted. Thinking only of the fear in the rapidly beating heart of my little hantavirus-infested visitor, I slid him off the counter with the tupperware onto a magazine, trapping him inside.

Maybe some other day I will wake up with murderous thoughts on my mind. Maybe future rodents should quiver in fear because of my wrath. As for this mouse, I carried him out to the alley behind the house. Setting him free, he squeaked and ran under the neighbor's garage wall. I hope he's grateful. And that he keeps his mouse diseases to himself.


  1. Awww poor little dude. haha. He was probably so scared!

  2. sweet! reminds me of our travel mouse. we can be very grateful that she didn't infect us!