squeak

There is a mouse living in my back garden, under one of my plant containers. Every now and again I catch sight of it, wandering about. As it is neither in the shed (riddled) or in the kitchen (war ongoing) I am in a quandary. I have come to regard mice as a bad thing, something that I ought to Deal With; but this one is outside: it is cute, it is brown, and it isn't wandering through my cupboards or chewing through my belongings. I am not sure if it would be entirely fair to set a trap. Maybe the mouse should be allowed its little bit of territory.

I do not know what to do. I am hoping that one of the neighbourhood cats will sort it out for me.

where on the stair?

I am slumped on the sofa with P watching Friday night TV through half-closed eyes when something appears from the hole where the radiator pipe used to be. I have just enough time to shout 'Mouse!' and it disappears. After a short conversation designed to reassure me that a) the mice are not out to get me b) I am not unhygenic c) It isn't my fault, I get the mousetrap and load it with bird seed. The trap sits next to the pipe-hole for a week, untouched. I decide that the mouse was just scoping out the premises, and has found a better place to stay.

We are standing in the kitchen making a cake for my upcoming Birthday Event With a Zero At The End when I catch a movement in my peripheral vision. Something has leapt from somewhere and landed on the small step into the kitchen that everyone trips on. My id takes over and I scream as I watch a very fat looking mouse scuttle along the edge of the kitchen door and round into the cupboard under the stairs. This mouse looks entirely at home. Damn. I move the mousetrap from the radiator pipe hole, re-bait it with peanut butter (one needs a little variety) and put it in the cupboard under the stairs. This morning it remains untouched.

Next door have just got a cat, and I am blaming the Bluebell effect for my influx. Do not disabuse me.