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The most human(e) mouse trap

Scratch, scratch, scratch. Squeak. Rustle, rustle. 

Those are the sounds made by my unwelcome newest housemate.

Beau, the dog, was certain of his presence before I would admit we had a mouse in the house — I'm still convinced he's a lone mouse — but I couldn't deny it any longer when I stared the mouse in his tiny, furry, adorable face in the living room. Beau seems intent on conquering the mouse himself, so I called for him. He doesn't listen well. The mouse took the cue better than my faithful guard dog and scurried back to a hiding place. 

On a Saturday night, with my dog by my side and between streaming episodes of The Daily Show, I heard the tell-tale sounds of my smallest housemate. I was able to determine his general location, the bookshelf in the dining room, which contains cookbooks, office-type supplies and — this one's easy — the dog treats in a bin.

I have always assumed mice were hanging out on the floor or other ground-level places, but mice are not afraid of heights and their climbing abilities are better than I had previously suspected. I bravely removed the bin from the shelf and set it on the floor, where I found myself in a staring match with the mouse. He was clinging to the fabric walls of the bin, staring at me with his small, shiny, black eyes. I was staring back at him with my relatively giant white and blue and black eyes. Neither of us knew what to do. But one of us would have to move, and if I wanted to go back to the old, mouse-free ways, it would have to be me.

I called for Beau,but know he isn't the brazen killer he thinks he is, so when the mouse dove back into the depths of the bin, I picked the bin up and I put it ouside the back door. Now, of course, the mouse has an entire bin of dog treats to himself on the back step, so he's not particularly suffering and I'm sure he has a way back into the house, but for now, I am satisfied knowing that I removed the mouse from the house in the most humane way I can think of — with my own two hands. 

Until we meet again, little guy.

P.S. I resisted the urge to Instragram the mouse, so I have no photo of him for the record.

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