An Open Letter to the Creature

This is an Open Letter to the Creature who was stockpiling rice in a box in the basement:

Dear Creature,

I suspect you are a mouse, or perhaps small group of mice. I salute your industry. It appears that you have been very busy and/or well-organized. You have brought what I guess to be at least an entire cup of rice to your sneaky hiding place. I would never have found it had I not been looking for a box to pack some things in that I need to ship. I never would have guessed that you would hide in the bottom of a cardboard box once used to hold paper.

I do have a few questions for you. First of all, how long have you been going about this project of rice relocation? How much rice are you capable of carrying in your tiny, tiny arms? Also, where are you now? Are you still hiding somewhere in our home, perhaps in another box, or have you moved on to rice-ier pastures?

Also, were you planning to eat all of this rice yourself? It seems like a lot for one mouse. Perhaps you have an eating disorder? The fact that the rice in the box was mixed with nearly equal parts of -- uh, how to say this delicately? -- your excrement (which looks alarmingly like black rice) makes me suspect you have some issues. Seriously, dude, that is totally gross. The image of you sitting in a dark cardboard box, surrounded by rice and your own poo is not a pretty picture.

Finally, one last question, Creature: where did you get the rice? We have not yet determined the source from which you created your stash. Did you gnaw a hole in a bag somewhere that we have not yet found? Was it in the upstairs pantry, or the basement storage pantry? If you want to just leave us a note, that would help. Thanks.

Well, Mr. or Ms Mouse, I have taken your rice (and poo) and thrown it in the trash. If you want it, you can find it outside in the dumpster. Please, please stop with the hoarding....at least inside our house. And if you see an odd looking contraption made of wood and wire that seems to be inviting you to eat some delicious peanut butter, run. Run like the wind, little friend.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Love,
83 Durant Street

P.S. Photographic evidence of your infraction:

Good News/Bad News

The good is... Mouse Problem Over!!! relish that for a bit.

Now the bad news: The mouse problem never really began. It turns out we don't have mice at all, but there is something that was/is making noise in the walls and eating the peanut butter (but not bacon) we've been kindly serving.

Here was my previous reasoning:

1. Either we have mice, rats, or grey squirrels.
2. We don't have squirrels. (Squirrels are diurnal, and we always heard scratching at night.)
3. We don't have rats. (Please, oh please don't let it be rats.)

Therefore, we have mice.

Turns out the conclusion was false. Bear with me as I slip casually into logic teacher mode: The argument is valid (i.e. if the premises are true, then the conclusion must also be true), so at least one of those premises must be false. Here's an exercise for the reader at home: Identify the false premise(s).

[update: I don't know where those little flower bullet points came from. It was a numbered list in the preview window.]

mouse hotel

The mousetrap leashes have kept us from losing any more traps (there's still one MIA). But the traps have proved poor mouse catchers. I first tried three leashed traps baited with peanut butter. After a day, the traps were sprung and peanut butter free. I decided to switch bait.

Rex Dart suggested hot dogs instead of peanut butter. We don't have any hot dogs in the house, and I absolutely will not let these mice trick me into buying them groceries. So I used some bacon, delicious thick-cut dry-cured bacon from our CSA. (When killing rodents, I choose to use only ethically and sustainably produced meats.) I also went in for a temporary trap surge, up to seven. Result: I think perhaps our mice don't like bacon. Foolish, foolish mice. Only two of seven traps were sprung, no mice caught, and none of the bacon looked eaten.

Here's the new plan, the Mouse Hotel:

mouse hotel
Originally uploaded by Jake Bridge.

(In theory) the mouse walks up the gangplank and across the tightrope to get some delicious peanut butter. But the peanut butter is in the middle of a section of plastic water bottle that spins freely on the tightrope. The plastic spins and the mouse falls into the bucket. Then we'll find the mouse a new home at a nice golf course a few miles from our house. I'm pretty sure mice like golf.

I believe I got the idea for the mouse hotel long ago from Paul Kalil. As you may guess, the internet also has many bright ideas for catching mice. Here are some favorites:

Humane Mouse Traps . They have mouse test-subjects and videos!

Out of my league.

Clever trap. Cute drawing.

escalation Surge

escalation
Originally uploaded by Jake Bridge.

The mice are far from being defeated. Last time they stole our traps, but we're not going to give up. The stakes are too high and the consequences too grave. If we lose our nerve, if we're not steadfast in our determination to catch these mice, we will be handing the attic over to an enemy that would do us harm.

I remain convinced that the best tactic in this fight is judicious application of superior technology. So here's the latest: traps with leashes. Steal these, jerks!

[update: My original title was behind the military buzzword times. Here at 83 Durant, we don't like to behind any times at all, so that's all taken care of.]

Not a creature was stirring....

We have a bit of a situation here at 83 Durant Street. It's a critter situation. About a week ago, we heard some scratch scratch scratching coming from somewhere around the pantry. Later, we heard it in the wall and the ceiling above the office. We have see no signs whatsoever inside; however, it's clear that we have a mouse in the house. More specifically, a mouse (OK, so we're hoping it's a mouse, and just one mouse) in the walls. What to do?

We got some of those old school snappy Victor traps. Jake placed three upstairs, in the attic. We baited with peanut butter, as we hear that is popular with the young mice these days. The next morning, Jake popped his head up into the attic, and made a rather shocking discovery:

two traps are completely GONE.
one trap was sprung, with no peanut butter left.

So we have a situation. We should note that the traps being GONE means, at this point, that they can't be seen from the attic hatch. We're not sure where they are, but we also haven't done any looking around up there. They have definitely moved, but whether that is because they sprung & moved, or whether a little creature decided to take the trap home to build a nest, we don't yet know. We just haven't had a chance to get up there and look around. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe Monday, you know, to be in the Christmas spirit.

In any case, we haven't heard any of the scratching sounds since the day we set the traps. Perhaps we just haven't been listening at the right times. And still no signs of them inside.