Yet another mouse stumbled into the victor live catch mouse trap last night. We've stopped naming them, and just call this one number 8. Apparently, the mice are reproducing faster than we can dispose of them. This one is the fattest mouse we've nabbed so far. I don't want to call him huge or anything, but we're not really sure how he managed to wedge himself into the mouse trap. We almost had to use the jaws of life to extract him. At any rate, it doesn't look like he has been skipping any meals. Queen Molly is convinced that there is actually only one mouse who after being released, repeatedly returns to our home for another meal. She stated that Jake had to tag the mouse in some manner so that we can prove it isn't the same mouse. Though Jake has watched all manner of wildlife TV shows where animals have been tagged, he has no actual working knowledge of how such a thing is done. He therefore ruled out tagging the mouse. Jake also quickly rejected all of the other suggestions that included branding and/or tattooing the mouse. Painting the mouse's toenails with toenail polish was actually considered somewhat seriously, but after Jake's recent mouse wrangling incident, he discarded this option as well. There was only one option left. Queen Molly insisted that King Jake had to transport the miscreant mouse so far from the castle that there would be no possible way that the mouse could return. Hmmmm Jake asked, "How far is that exactly?" Molly thought for a moment and then stated unequivocally that the mouse had to be taken at least one physical mile from the castle. What Jake said? An entire mile? The mouse has little legs. He is not going to hike half that far just to return to our home. Our crumbs can't possibly be that much superior to our neighbors crumbs that this fellow would want to hike all the way back to our house. Queen Molly didn't say a word and just kept pointing out the door toward the dark and foreboding Pohick National Forest. Jake grumbled a little, but dutifully grabbed the mouse containment facility and headed out on his quest. As soon as Jake entered the forest and was out of sight of the castle, a thought struck him. What if I just let the mouse loose here and then wait for an appropriate amount of time. I can claim that I took the mouse a mile from the house and Molly would never know the difference. No. Jake quickly gave up on this idea because even though Jake had no idea how she did it, Molly always seemed to catch him when he tried this sort of scheme. As King Jake was hiking along a trail, he happened upon one of the local residents out for his morning constitutional. The gentleman eyed Jake suspiciously in the way that one would eye a stranger encountered in the middle of the forest who is carrying a large jar containing a mouse. Jake who was attempting to allay the gentleman's fears asked the man in a friendly manner, "Would you like to see my mouse?" The gentleman with large frightened eyes quickly shook his head and stepped as far away from Jake as he could and moved off in what could easily be described as a double time. Hmmmmmm. I guess I did not allay his fears, Jake thought to himself. After what seemed to be a considerable period of time Jake finally arrived at a location he deemed to be at least one mile distant from the castle. Jake had no sooner loosened the cap of the mouse jar when the mouse leapt from the jar and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Well, that's a fine how do you do. Not even a polite goodbye. During Jake's hike back to the castle, he had a eerie sensation that he was being watched. He kept looking around but he never caught sight of anyone following him. Nothing to worry about Jake thought, but having seen one two many horror movies, Jake realized that this was always the moment that a large fellow with a hockey mask and chain saw was likely to appear. Stop it Jake. You're just making yourself crazy. Perhaps Jake thought, it was just the mouse attempting to follow him back to the castle. Perhaps we really should have painted his toenails after all. Oh well, I guess we can give that a try for number nine.Mouse War Index
2 comments:
Yia sou, Master Jake;
Has the Master of this evolving family considered tagging the mice with radioisotopes for tracking purposes? A more practical solution would be to pick up some L'Oreal Color Pulse (Concentrated Color Moose #30/Funky cherry). This is vibrant and Non-permanent; not to mention, it will leave the mouse's hair "Ultra-Soft". After reviewing your gene pool, one could assume that you have read Aesop's tale The Town Mouse And The Country Mouse; and you are preparing yourself for not one, but two mice returning to your kingdom.
I heard from land afar that StarrySpark has set another milestone and congratulations are in order. I must say that I have also enjoyed finding pictures of Queen Molly and Grocery Girl.
With all that said, I must be on my way. It seems that my mp3 player has made it's way across the ocean. As a result, the children were put in the pasture to graze (the yard was beginning to resemble a wheat field). They have finished that task at hand and will be pointed in the direction of the doghouse. It has been vacant lately, and in need of a fresh coat of paint.
Bright color hair deposits hummm. That would make him a pretty good target for the ecosystem. I wonder how that would register on the sights of a hunting hawk. Did you ever consider a shoebox with a couple pieces of bread and sliding it into the neighbor’s garage? The one who has all the advice of home and gardens? You risk being turned into the local housing association and could lead to disposition. I almost think you are enjoying and maybe prolonging this insurgency. You may want to do a recon around the castle and identify the point of entry. Once you have identified all secret passages you take active measures of reducing the intruders access to the inter workings of the castle. You could use concrete patch, expanding insulation works good too and is less labor intensive. I hear that steel wool is also a good blocking barrier. It must leave a bad taste in their mouth. I’m not too sure how I would react if some stranger babbling about kingdoms and carrying around a jar with a mouse and talking to it. Some people are natural Psycho magnets and know it. Maybe the running man had a magnetic personality and he knew it, not that you are a Phycho, he just needed to get to know you a bit more. Your pet mouse probably threw him off a bit. This is clearly a tactical engagement victory. Maintain the vigilance and keep your powder dry, see you on the high ground for cigars.
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