Meeska, Mooska, Mouse-kateer…..

And then it was autumn. What the heck happened to summer? How did we get from “Hot enough for you?” to “Had to turn on the heat last night.”? In an old house, such as the one I live in, it’s time for the creatures to move back inside, and I’m not talking about the dog. Freaking mice and goodness knows what all need to get in from the cold. Those blasted vermin don’t even need to have real food to survive, they seem to be happy eating plastic storage containers and spray foam insulation. While I love the great weather of the fall, I really do not enjoy the little poops along the baseboards and throughout the lower cabinets in the kitchen. This year, without a cat in the house to defend our territory, I’m waging a private war on the mouse invaders. Maggots in my green bin, slither aside, you’ve been told. Right now I mean business, mouse business.

So, let me start at the beginning. When I lived in Toronto, our first home was a two bedroom apartment close to the University and to work. Believe it or not, we didn’t have problems with bedbugs, mice or other annoyances. Well, let me rephrase that, we did have upstairs neighbours who liked to workout in their living room (directly above our living room). Almost every day, we tolerated their two hour thumping and jumping, usually in the early morning. We often joked about what they were really doing up there, but plyometrics it was. It was the ’60s. 5 or 10BX stuff was really popular, along with Jack LaLane and Bonnie Prudden on television. Unlike the furry pests in our County home, we were blessed because the neighbours made a lot of noise, but they didn’t sneak into our apartment to poop on the countertops or in the cupboards nor did they gnaw their way through bags of pretzels and boxes of baking soda. When our Toronto neighbours got out of hand we just thumped on the ceiling with a broom handle and the workout almost always ended with a muffled “sorry” and a return to calm within moments. Mice don’t care what you do with the broom, but they do prefer a broom loaded with floor flavours.

So, off to the Farm Store to load up on rodent deterrents, including Warfarin, a slick electronic gizmo, boxes of steel wool and a couple of cans of spray expansion foam. After reading all of the complicated and tedious methods of dealing with mice on the Internet, I decided to the bypass the fun of building a water trap or baiting a snap trap or devising a cardboard box trap that included the use of a toaster oven and a long, mouse-stunning drop over the edge of a countertop. And, although a cat is probably the best road to travel when you live in an old house, I thought about all of those litter box treasures going into my green bin and decided I didn’t need to take on the maggots, just the mice. So, all of the potential rodent-border-crossings I could find were plugged with steel wool and sprayed over with expansion foam (ask my good friend Sue about my love of expansion foam). Knowing the little buggers can get into tight spaces on their travels, I created my own version of Rodent Diners, Drive-ins and Dives. Warfarin is the key ingredient going into all of the little takeout containers. Then I spent one whole afternoon cleaning and disinfecting all of the cupboards, washed all of the items in the lower cabinets and drawers. Like spring cleaning only poopier. Then, I placed my drivethrough treats behind the stove, the washer, the dryer, the pantry cupboard and beneath the sink. Lastly, I plugged in and switched on the electronic gizmos and then went to bed.

Next morning, no little poops in my cupboards, on my counters or behind the appliances. As I pushed the broom and mop back into their spot beside the pantry cupboard, LOML exclaimed, “What the heck is that smell. It’s worse than the freaking green bin ever was.” Well, at least they didn’t die in the toaster.

theresa@wellingtontimes.ca