Friday, March 16, 2007

I hate those meeses ta pieces.

Being a placid, peace loving type ( you know, the type that'll not react too much to abuse but then some eejit will take it too far and get stomped type, yeah, that type).

The inner monster very, very rarely sees daylight. Life is better that way. Really.
This post is not about me sprouting another head and turning into the hulk. No.
This is about having to deal with a problem that Mrs M freaks out about.

I found mice droppings in the garage the other night.
This morning I threw out some mouldy bread for the birds onto the garage roof. A couple of pieces fell on the ground beside a pile of cherry tree logs I have waiting to be sawn up into firewood.

I went back into the house and started fixing me some breakfast. As I sat down to eat, something moved outside and I looked round. At first I thought it was a bird, then as it hopped out fully from the logs I saw it was a mouse.

Ah, I said to myself. This is not good at all.

This means war.

I watched the little beggar grab a piece of bread and skitter back into the logpile.
I opened the back door , closed it and sat down outside and waited.
Sure enough after a few minutes it came out again. I stood up and it ran back rather quickly into the logs.
I went back into the house to get my catapult and some ball bearings. Yeah, I know, what's a grown up doing with one of those. Well, I have had it since I was 16 yrs old and I bought new bands for it last year and a load of ammo. I have had some target practice away from the house (no broken windows) and I am getting better. Lots of fun actually.

Back to my story...

I got back outside tooled up and sat and waited. Again the little whiskered beggar appeared and skipped over the logs heading towards a piece of bread. I had my aim in the right direction to minimise movement...I pulled back the bands slowly....took aim.... and fired.

Shite.

I missed by about an inch at a distance of about 11 feet or so.

The mouse leapt in the air and skited back into the logs really fast.

Feck.

Much as I would have liked to have sat all day waiting on my prey I had to go to work.
Small moving targets not so easy to hit.
I got a hold of some rodenticide today and will be setting it inside containers so that only the mouse/mice, for they never work alone, can access, so no birds or cats will mnuch on some death.

My comment at the start about repressed rage is directly relevant as I only lose it when absolutely necessary. My experience with the mouse was that of the red mist being applied with some thought. Heck that all sounds like I need an outlet doesn't it.

I have to get rid of the mouse/mice. Disease vectors and all that, cute as they may be.

We had rats in the compost bin last year, poisoned those buggers. Never saw them, too wiley.

I would rather end the mice quickly rather than have them die slowly.

A friend had mice inside and laid sticky traps for them after they kept raiding the mouse traps and not getting caught. Sticky traps meant screaming mice stuck and scared out of their wits having to be despatched with a blunt object. Messy, distressing, not nice.

A direct hit from the catapult ( .38 cal ball bearing ammo) should be instant death. I would much prefer that.

I would rather that I didn't have mice about the place but problems must be dealt with as they arise.

It's a dirty job etc etc.

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