I’m having yet another anthropomorphic episode with the onslaught of new mouse tenants who think my house is a great place to shack up for the cold season.
Unlike a lot of people I remain mostly unperturbed by a variety of animals that don’t usually live with humans.
Why, in the house where I grew up I dealt with raccoons, skunks, field mice, foxes and even the occasional mole who used the hollow walls and shoddy screen doors to enter our house on a regular basis. Our completely useless dog would head for the hills and we’d have to shoo these woodland creatures back to their natural habitat with alarming frequency.
Now that I live in the city, I find I have zero tolerance for the two animals who, like the plague, remain a thorn in the side of urban dwellers everywhere – the rat and the cockroach.
That is why when I get batch of baby mice, I almost sigh with nostalgia.
I first saw Jumpy and his kin flying out of my laundry pile with wild abandon a few weeks ago and I was immediately smitten. So here is where I appeal to Jumpy’s practical nature and ask him a favor….
It’s been great getting to know you and your teardrop shaped siblings. You’ve been a welcome addition to our family and we’ve enjoyed watching you guys engage in hilarious mouse hijinks. I’d even venture as far as to say that you return those warm feelings, but here’s the thing.
This is poor judgement.
We are a wretched, savage species with a long history of wiping out anything we see as unsavory or burdensome. And while I think your large brown trusting eyes and heartwarming nightly hop through my kitchen, blissfully unaware of the danger, is delightfully sweet – soon a time will come where we must become enemies.
For you see, society dictates that you – the vermin– and me- the king of the world– must face off.
I know this seems barbaric and unfair as I have opposable thumbs, glue traps, the ability to drive and enormous size and strength while you only have the disarming power of a-fucking-dorable.
Let’s be frank.
Eventually you’ll lose the doe eyed innocence and naiveté that allows you to walk straight up to me without fear. Your enthusiasm for floor crumbs will wane and you’ll begin to chew up things that you ought not to and eventually you’ll cause some sort of damage that will warrant a home improvement project and cost me money.
The poops won’t look like tiny chocolate sprinkles anymore.
The honeymoon will end.
I’ll move from hostess to predator seemingly with the flip of a switch, hunting you with a stealth and prowess you didn’t think I had. The time for humane traps will be long past and one day you’ll come across a deceptively delicious glob of peanut butter in the middle of a seemingly innocuous sheet of shiny white paper.
“A peace-offering” you’ll think to yourself and you’ll take one tiny mouse step forward, sealing your fate.
A large tear will spill out of your left rodent eye as you feel the full weight of my betrayal.
The only witnesses to your sad end? The watchful eyes of my crated dog and the glue trap set by a cruel mistress.
Get the fuck out and enjoy this beautiful fall day in the sunshine before this possible future destroys us all!!