Posted tagged ‘mice’

“I don’t believe in reincarnation, and I didn’t believe in it when I was a hamster.”

February 4, 2013

About an inch of snow fell last night. With the sun glinting off the ice crystals, the morning is a pretty one, but it’s cold out. I swept the snow from the walk and my car windows, got the paper then ran inside to the warmth of the house. I’ll have to venture onto the deck later as the feeders are empty.

No mouse was in the trap this morning though the trap had been sprung, but the peanut butter was still there so one of the cats could very well have been the culprit as the trap is so sensitive to touch. I’ll reset the trap and put it back in the eaves, but I haven’t found a mouse in a few days. Gracie is a bit disappointed. She enjoys her late evening mouse runs. The last mouse was my favorite. It was let loose near some woods and to get there it ran, hopped, ran and hopped again. I watched it until it disappeared into the woods. As always, I wished it well.

I had hamsters once. The guy at the pet store swore they were both males; he was half right. Those hamsters had several babies, but I did find homes and then put the two of them in separate cages. Those cages were in my bedroom. The female hamster learned how to open the cage and escaped often even after we closed it with more wire. One of the cats captured that hamster and was playing with it in the bathtub. The hamster would try and climb the side to get away, and the cat would bring it right back. It was like the Myth of Sysyphus without the rock. My mother saved the hamster which, you find later in the story, was a bit ironic. I had one of those furry rugs popular in the 60’s. It was a round one on the floor in my bedroom. The rug was bright pink. The hamster pulled it close to the cage and chewed off a section of the rug for her nest. It was one pretty colorful nest, and I had a rug with a circular piece missing. People saw the rug with the missing piece but never asked. I would have been curious. Eventually the male hamster died and the female escaped. It lived somewhere in the house, but we didn’t find it until later, until its demise. The hamster had been living behind the stove, and when my mother turned on the stove one time, the hamster, the same one my mother had saved, bit into a wire and was electrocuted. We called my mother the Lord High Executioner for a while. She never really warmed to that name.

“It looks like something out of Whittier’s “Snowbound,”‘ Julia said. Julia could always think of things like that to say.”

January 22, 2013

First off, I have tied the old record. The 17th mouse was caught during the night in the have-a heart trap. Unlike in the plastic ones, the mouse is pretty quiet: lots of room, a good view and plenty of peanut butter. I’ll reset the trap when I go back upstairs. Next up on our daily bulletin: weather. The news says we got 3.8 inches of snow, but I don’t think so. I went out in my shoes around 6:30 to look for the paper and had no problems staying dry or even finding the papers. The tip of the orange plastic covering was above the snow. Health is our last morning update. I woke up at 5:00 coughing loud enough for people to think it was an old-time TB ward. I came downstairs, took some medicine, drank the other magic elixir, coffee, then watched the news. I’m already tired, though, and am going back to bed shortly.

I braved the elements yesterday to bring the bird feeders inside where I filled them then I put them back outside. The birds are already having breakfast.

When I was a kid, I hated my rubber snow boots. My fingers always stung holding the tops so I could stuff my shoes inside, and, in the afternoon, if the boots were wet, they were impossible to fill. I’d just put my shoes in my school bag and wear my socks inside the boots. They’d always got wet and my feet were always cold. The only good thing about snow boots was they came in so many different colors. We always left for school a bit earlier than usual on boots days so we could get them off in time for the bell.

My father wore galoshes which had clips, metal rings, on the front which made it easy to open and close the boots. They were always black. Men weren’t into color when I was a kid. My dad wore a white shirt to work every day.

My father also had rubbers for rainy days. They covered his shoes except for the top. My grandmother had those see-through boots with one button on the side to close them. They had room at the back for the clunky heels on the old lady tie shoes. They were ugly, and they are always old lady boots to me.

The sun is beginning to shine behind the grey clouds. I can see its light.

I’m ready to go back to bed. Music will be late today.

“As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly!!!”

January 17, 2013

Yesterday it poured all day, but off-Cape had snow so I’m not complaining. Miss Gracie and I did a dump run, and I didn’t even bother to change out of my flannel pants and sweat shirt. The dump was pretty empty in the rain.

The mouse count is now 14. Two got caught yesterday: one in the plastic trap and one in the have-a-heart. I have a story. The one in the plastic trap was making so much noise scratching and banging that it woke me up. I wanted to sleep in peace so I decided, despite the dark and the rain, to take it outside. I walked across the street, my usual deportation spot, and was about to open the trap when I heard, “Hello.” I just about jumped out of my skin. I turned around and all I saw was a light, not a flashlight but a bigger light. “Who is it?” I asked. “Billy,” was the answer. It was my neighbor carrying the light, an umbrella and a huge cup of steaming coffee. He was walking Cody, his dog. I asked the time. It was six o’clock. He wanted to know why I was in the rain, in the dark at six o’clock. I told him about my mice. He said he was sorry.

When I was a kid, I never did see much wildlife where I lived, maybe a skunk or two but that was about it. We saw cows at the farm and animals at the zoo but nothing exciting in the woods. Here on the Cape I’ve seen deer, rabbits, foxes, wild turkeys, coyotes and the common skunks, raccoons and ugly opossums, though that last one is redundant. I didn’t mention the spawns on purpose. The coyotes are common but usually at night or early morning. I used to see them on my way to work. They all looked healthy. I know one is around here when the rabbits disappear and when I can hear the horrible screams of the prey when the coyotes hunt. I never worried about Gracie as she is too big to interest a coyote. A friend once saw a coyote dragging her small dog by its hind quarters trying to take it. The dog was crying and scratching the ground in an attempt to get some traction to run. My friend saved her dog who only had a few bite marks. Another friend’s dog, another small dog, was attached to an overhead line in the backyard. The coyote grabbed the dog in its mouth and ran. When they got to the end of the line, the dog popped right out of the coyote’s mouth and was saved. The wild turkeys are the most fun to watch. They travel in fairly large groups, fluff their tail feathers as they run and make all sorts of noises. They’re now pretty common, but the first time I saw them I stopped my car to watch.

Wild turkeys can fly unlike the ones on WKRP in Cincinnati, a program I used to love. I’ll never forget the program entitled Turkeys Away. In a Thanksgiving promotion the station decided to give away turkeys and to drop them from a helicopter.

“It’s a helicopter, and it’s coming this way. It’s flying something behind it, I can’t quite make it out, it’s a large banner and it says, uh – Happy… Thaaaaanksss… giving! … From … W … K … R… P!! No parachutes yet. Can’t be skydivers… I can’t tell just yet what they are, but – Oh my God, Johnny, they’re turkeys!! Johnny, can you get this? Oh, they’re plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! One just went through the windshield of a parked car! Oh, the humanity! The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement! Not since the Hindenburg tragedy has there been anything like this!”

 

“You dirty rat…”

January 14, 2013

The weather hasn’t changed. It is a grey, dark unseasonably warm day. The paper says a high of 48˚. I guess this is the January thaw except nothing needed thawing except the tiniest blots of ice still left on corners from the plows during that ersatz snow storm.

The mouse count is higher: 6 have been relocated. The latest one got caught last night, but I left him in the trap all night. That’s the last time I’ll do that. It was a small one which was shaking when I let him go. He was so unsteady on his feet he had to stay a while in one spot. I watched until he finally moved across the street with a bit more confidence. I don’t want mice in my house, but I also do not want to be responsible for their demise. If the cats get them, that’s fine with me, but I won’t use a deadly trap.

While I was waiting for my coffee to finish brewing, I went to the window to watch the birds. What did I see? A spawn of Satan was dangling on my new suet feeder gnawing on the wooden top trying to get at the suet. I ran outside to scare the beast and was amazed at how wood he’d already eaten away. I got my cayenne pepper and smeared it all over the gnawed sides and the top. The big birds love that feeder because it has a long bottom which allows them to rest their tails on it while they eat. A flicker was there just now when I got another cup of coffee. The rain hasn’t washed away the pepper-I can still see it. I hope that keeps the spawns away.

The rodents have a vendetta against me. Somewhere, in rodent headquarters, my picture or a reasonable facsimile, is on the wall. The beasts meet periodically to figure ways to drive me crazy. The huge, fat spawn which can barely jump from limb to limb is probably the leader. He riles the troops. The mice find the smallest holes and get inside. The spawns mock me by eating not only the seeds but also the feeders.

I’m beginning to think I’m losing it here. It is Gaslight reinvented. The mice and spawns are out to drive me crazy. I’m just so glad the 6 ft fence keeps out the raccoons and the skunks. That would be too great a coalition even for me.

“Look up in the sky! It’s a bird! It’s a plane! It’s Superman!”

January 12, 2013

Today is a low-keyed day though I do have one triumph to report. A mouse now has a new residence. I caught my first one last night. It fell for the old cheese in the box routine. I noticed its capture around 10:30 last night so Gracie and I took the mouse for a ride and, in defiance of the law, relocated it a few blocks away. The mouse was a black one, and I think the same one the dog was chasing on Christmas Eve. I wish it well in its new home wherever that is.

The week has been a busy one for me, and I’m done with it. Today is a nothing day: no errands, no mice, no sun and no ambition. Maybe I’ll read, or maybe I won’t. I’m ambivalent. I’d watch the syfy channel, but today is destroy Earth day, and I’ve already seem most of them. I know the endings-the Earth is always saved.

When I was a kid, I don’t remember ever having nothing days. Monday to Friday was school, and it consumed most of my week. At this time of year, when I’d get home, the dark came too early, and it was usually too cold for playing outside in the afternoons. We’d play in the cellar instead or play a board game while lying on the living rug or watch television.

Superman was on TV every day at 4:30. It never occurred to me back then that Lois, Jimmy and Perry should have seen through Clark’s disguise and should have followed up the questions Lois always asked about Clark’s disappearance when Superman was on the scene. It looked like Superman was really flying though I knew he wasn’t. I can still remember the flying music and the sound of the wind as Superman jumped into the air then flew with arms outstretched. Clark always took off his tie first. That and the music were the sign Clark was soon to be Superman. I wondered about the suits he left in telephone booths and alleys. I figured he always went back to the storage room for the suits he left at work but what about the others.  Now I just can’t imagine his clothing allowance. I can still see in my mind’s eye the train and the shooting gun when Superman was described at the beginning of the program, “Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive.” It was stirring to see Superman, arms akimbo, with the flag waving behind him. The world was in good hands!

“Now listen, we need to be quiet as mice. No, quieter than that. As quiet as…as…” “Dead mice?” Reynie suggested. “Perfect,” said Kate with an approving nod. “As quiet as dead mice.”

January 11, 2013

This morning I had breakfast with friends, people with whom I worked with at the high school who have also retired, then did a couple of errands; hence, the lateness of Coffee today.

I am going to change the name of this blog to something alliterative like Critter Corner or Animal Antics or maybe, after last night, Rodent Roaming. It seems I need the Pied Piper of Hamlin and I will the price he asks. When I went to feed the cats last night, I noticed familiar droppings in the eaves where I keep the cat dishes. Yup, mice are in the eaves in my bedroom. I had heard them but not seen any real evidence until yesterday. I keep the cat food in the eaves to protect it from Gracie, but with the mice around, I took the two dishes out, emptied them, took them downstairs and scrubbed them. I went back upstairs, filled the dishes and left them outside the eaves on the rug. Gracie, Fern and I were in bed. I was finishing my book when I noticed movement. A small mouse had come out of the eaves looking for the food dish. He was obviously a baby so I figure generations live in my eaves. This happened one other time years ago when the cats I had were old so I caught the mice myself in a Have-a-heart trap, all 17 of them. Fern, lying on the bed with me, saw the mouse, sat up and just watched for the longest time. I figured she was confused and thought she was at the movies watching Ben or Willard. I watched too and the mouse kept trying to get at the dried cat food dish. I finally took the dish up to a spot where the mouse couldn’t at it but neither could the cats. They’d be okay as they had wet food.

This morning I refilled the wet food, came downstairs and went outside to get the papers. Gracie went right upstairs and ate the cat food. She was still up there when I came back in so I yelled and she ran downstairs with guilt written all over her face. I put a gate across the door frame to keep Gracie out.

Today I bought two Have-a-Heart traps and will bait and place them upstairs. I also bought mouse repellant for when I finally get rid of the rodents. I was told to be careful if I take the mice to let them loose as it is illegal to transport animals in traps. That’s all I need: a blue light behind me and the evidence in a cage on the floor of the front seat.

Well, life goes on here in strange ways. I swear rodents have my number. They are a cabal meeting to design ways to drive me crazy. The spawns of Satan send representatives as do the upstairs and downstairs mice. I have two cats, one of whom would catch the mice if she were upstairs while the other one finds them entertaining. Gracie corners them, but she was sleeping,  snoring loudly, and missed the fun. I finally finished my book, turned off the light and went to sleep.

I will, after I post, go upstairs and set the traps. I’ll keep a running count of mice who get caught. I really hope I don’t beat my count of 17.

 

“What goes on four legs in the morning, on two legs at noon, and on three legs in the evening?”

March 25, 2012

Finally we had some rain, last night and this morning. It has made for a day dark and dreary. I went out for my usual Sunday breakfast and brought some bacon to the car for Gracie who was patiently waiting. When I got home and got out of the car, I turned to get her and found she had jumped into the front seat, a spot she seldom likes. Well, the bacon was now on the back seat cover and no longer in Gracie so she had decided the front seat was the better option. I put her in the house, cleaned the car and then went back inside. What did I find but another dead mouse, this one on the floor of the bathroom. Back outside I went to fling the mouse into the brush next to my house. This has been an interesting morning.

The last week was a busy one for me from Thursday on through Saturday. I was a social whirlwind, at least in comparison to my usual schedule, and it was exhausting. This week looks to be quiet. That’s fine with me.

When I was working and much younger, the weekends were always busy with meeting friends, a little bar hopping, dinners out and all the chores like laundry and the dump. I’d fit everything into Friday night through Sunday afternoon then I’d spend that afternoon getting my teaching plans in order for the week. Sunday night I’d decompress and get ready for Monday. My energy seemed limitless back then. I was up early every day and up late every night and none the worse for wear.  I now nap before I go out.

I always understood the Riddle of the Sphinx, but it was just a clever riddle to the younger me. The older me is part of it, closer to the evening than the afternoon; however, that hasn’t stopped me, but it sure as heck has slowed me down.

“The mouse that hath but one hole is quickly taken.”

August 1, 2011

Lazy day is my mantra.

It was a restless night so I made up for it by missing a good portion of the morning. I slept in until 10 o’clock. About seven I let Gracie out, and she came back in at some point and joined me. She always has a morning nap. It’s already hotter than they predicted for today, but there is a nice breeze on the deck where I’ll go when I finish here. I have a new book to read called Children of the Street. Kwei Quartey, the author, is a Ghanaian and the mystery takes place in Accra. I read his first book, Wife of the Gods. It was okay, but I wished there was more Ghanaian English as it has wonderful peculiarities, but the books are fun to read as they mention familiar places. This one has some Hausa, the language the Peace Corps taught me.

Anther summer month has come and gone. If I were a kid, I’d be appalled at the back to school commercials on TV. We never went back until after Labor Day, and that’s still over a month away. No reminders were necessary.

Another mouse yesterday, but this one was still kicking. Gracie was making a ruckus in the dining room so I went to check and found the mouse. When I went to pick it up to get rid of it, the mouse’s legs moved. I should have known it was still alive as Gracie has no interest in one already gone to its heavenly reward. I was grossed out. I don’t mind dead mice, but I do mind half-dead mice. I called my mouser, my friend Tony, who came up and took the mouse outside. Tony was gentle and said he was sorry to the wee mousie. I don’t think it will survive, but at least it was outside and away from Gracie.

All my neighbors must be at the beach as the street is really quiet. I grew up in a neighborhood which was only quiet late at night. All day long kids played on the street or in the backyards. Mothers yelled out back doors for their kids to come in for lunch or dinner, and every kid who jumped through a cold sprinkler squealed. At night, you could hear the TV’s from the different houses and even see the wavering black and white screens through the windows. I remember the sound of snow on empty stations. I know now it was static, white noise, but back then it was a little mesmerizing with its sound and flickering dots. I figured it looked like a giant snow storm which is why it got its name.

I’m ready for lunch. Today is hummus.

“The regulars are coming out!”

April 18, 2010

The sun has been in and out all morning. I hope it decides to stay.

Last night Gracie was after a mouse. The sounds of her dislodging its hiding places are what alerted me. When I first checked, Gracie was standing still and patiently watching one spot in the living room. A bit later I heard her in the dining room where she was standing alert by the chest on the floor near the windows. She was there a long time. Finally, Gracie joined me in the den, jumped on her chair and went to sleep. I figured the beastie had gotten the better of her.

This morning I found a dead mouse, a little gray mouse, on the dining room floor. I suspect Gracie was the cause of its demise. When the cats do in a mouse, the departed looks untouched, merely sleeping. This one had no apparent injuries but did have matted fur. A DNA analysis would probably discover canine spit. My dog, the mighty hunter!

From my window I can see the bird feeders. A downy woodpecker is munching away at the suet, and a greedy blue jay is flapping its wings for balance at a smaller feeder as it grabs seeds. It’s too big to land securely on the perch. Gold finches are back, the males now a bright yellow. The chickadees never left. A squirrel is hanging upside down and eating at one of the feeders so I have to excuse myself for just a minute………I’m back. The squirrel is gone.

It’s a long weekend here. Tomorrow is Patriot’s Day. It’s also Marathon Monday, and the Sox start at 11. Over at Lexington and Concord, the Redcoats are coming, but, don’t worry, the warning will be in time.  The Minutemen will be ready.