Background: housesitting
Setting: old house, Northside
Foreshadowing: mousetrap by garbage can
Previously: gone for a week-long vacation; neighbors were to watch little dog; I left a bowlful of dog food in case the neighbors forgot or whatever
Scene: Sunday afternoon. I'm sitting at the table a couple hours after returning to town. The little dog is out on a playdate and won't be home for hours. Suddenly a little mouse comes scurrying out from under the table and slides around the corner into the living room. I give chase but lose the mouse near the fireplace. A couple hours later I'm sitting at the table again and hear a strange little noise, sounds maybe like rain. I go out to the deck, it's sunny, the noise stops. I hear the noise again and go out to investigate - is it the wind? It's not, the noise stops. The noise starts again. It takes me a while (I am slow), but I finally think, "The mouse, ah ha!" I determine that the noise is coming from the little dog's crate, so I shut the crate door and prepare to take it outside to dump, but when I lift up the crate I find the mouse underneath eating stray dog food. The mouse scurries to the living room again. I get out the vacuum and clean everything. Later I'm sitting at the table and the noise starts again. I construct a chute system to funnel the mouse into a box. I lift up the crate. The monster runs straight into my chute but manages to change direction at the last second and careen over to the stove. I bang on the stove with the garbage can to let the mouse know I do not approve of it. I disassemble the chute - brilliant plan, wily opponent. The little dog returns from her playdate and falls asleep in her bed in the living room. I hear the noise under the crate again. I yell at the dog and lift up the crate - bastard mouse scurries into living room past now-awake dog - dog gives chase but loses bastard mouse by bastard fireplace.
Next day. I'm sitting at the table. Bastard mouse runs out from under refrigerator, sees me, runs back under refrigerator. Bastard! I'm rationing dog food, there's nothing lying around for the mouse to eat. The bastard should realize it has no future here and should move on. Also, there are ants in the dog food bowl today. Whatever, ants! They meet a grisly fate at my hands.
Next day. Nothing.
Next day. Nothing.
Next day. The place smells funny, someone needs to take out the garbage. But that doesn't make sense, because there's nothing in the garbage. Maybe it's something in the refrigerator. Neither stinks, but I decide to put the garbage outside for the night to see if that clears the air. I pull out the garbage can. AND THEN! I see the mousetrap. It has moved since the last time I saw it. It is at a slight angle, and - the light is kind of dim and I can't really see, but is that - no, is that a little tail coming from the end of the trap? Is it? IS IT! Oh god, oh god, what do I do what do I do? I'll pretend I don't see it. I turn on all the lights... aaaaand, great, yeah, that's a little tail coming from the trap, there's a dead mouse stinking the place up. Someone needs to do something about it. But not me - I will ignore it and pretend everything's okay and I'll let Jacquie deal with it when they get back. Wait, wait, no, it's not going to get any better, if I don't deal with it tonight it will only get worse but WHAT DO I DO OH GOD. I am a fine lady. I call my dad. He tells me to throw it away. But how! I don't want to touch it! He tells me to put a plastic bag over my hand. THAT DOESN'T HELP AT ALL, YOU CAN STILL FEEL EVERYTHING. He says to put paper towels over it. AGGHH NO WAY, THERE IS A MOUSETAIL STICKING OUT OF ONE END. My dad refuses to make the three-hour drive to Missoula tonight and suggests I use a dustpan to aid in the disposal. I hang up and decide to find a stick to give myself a little distance. I find a long wand thingy for bubbles that some kid left on the porch. I am increasingly hysterical. The little dog comes to me, responding to the various noises I am emitting (which come alarmingly close to the stereotypical "eek"). We cower and freak out together. Every time I eek I give myself goosebumps. The little dog whines. I might swoon. You can see a bit of fur through the hole at the front end of the trap! Probably not the bastard mouse's nose like you'd think, it's probably the top of its squished head! Finally I steel myself and manage to get the mousetrap wedged between the dustpan and bubble wand. I lift it into the air. The mousetail moves, eek. It's actually not as gross as I'd built it up to be - you can't really see anything with this newfangled mousetrap (other than the mousetail and fur). Still, gag. The trap is reusable but NO WAY, I'll just buy them a new mousetrap. I deposit the soiled contraption in the garbage can. I take the garbage out. I go to bed. I will tell you this story in person and I will get goosebumps. So will you.
fin
