The reason? That is an excellent question, as they say on the talk shows. Poison! Plain and simple poison…..well... + a variety of snapping traps (all recommended by those who would know) + sticky traps +
The cats patrol the perimeter and leave me little tidbits of rat heads and mouse intestines as enticement to come home more often. My niece says they think if they feed me I will be happier and come round more often. They need to adjust their thinking. All their misguided gifts do is make me have to wash off the porch more often AND send nasty thoughts their way. CEASE AND DESIST!
The downside of having the enemy on the run, with poison as your weapon, is that you then have to locate the stinking bodies and carry them away….or…you could live with the smell of death until it subsides I suppose. No, the search teams have been out in force and bodies have been located and tossed outside, followed by severe scrubbing of the area and general cleaning of the surrounding area of the house.
I knew there was a dead one in the pantry somewhere so I set about cleaning it for the third time this month. I found one, cleaned all around and immediately knew there was another hiding somewhere. Let's be honest, there aren't too many places to hide in there at this point. I have simplified, tossed out and/or put everything in plastic boxes or tins until, really, where could he be?
Backstory: A few years ago someone gave me a gift in a beautiful and stout box that had a tight fitting lid. It was too lovely to give away, and since I came up short one plastic container for the pantry, I put all the chocolate chips, coconut, toffee….all the sweets used for baking into that box, knowing they would be safe.
After much cleaning of shelves, moving jars, washing everything AGAIN, I noticed the lid of that pretty box had been pushed open. WHAT? Those dastardly mice had to have used teamwork, there is no way one little mouse could have opened that thing. I knew what I would find and sure enough, it reeked of dead mouse and all the sweets had to go into the trash with the little varmint. I don't know if he died of poison or out of control blood sugar, but I know he died happy. Nirvana indeed.
Now all I have to do is take another lap with the Mr. Clean and hot soapy water and we'll be good to go.
P.S. I'm leaving the traps out…and the poison, until I get word that my grandchildren are heading this way. When you have mice on the run you have to keep fighting. Never assume they are gone for good. They know what awaits them outside (cold, cats, hawks, coyotes, birds, dogs, foxes) so they are willing to take a chance on life inside where it is warm and where there might be toffee bits and chocolate chips for the taking. Think again little friends.