Never buy a mouse trap from a gas station.

Karen had found a handful of sunflower seed hulls on the floor of the pantry.  I thought it was Charlie being Charlie, he is a messy dude.  Karen was not impressed with my reasoning, so we bought a mouse trap from a gas station.  

When we got home, Charlie started plotting the best strategy for capture, commenting that I had bought the PERFECT mouse trap.  The end result, was peanut butter topped with a sunflower seed on each trap.  Charlie toddled off to bed, Karen resigned herself to the boudoir for the evening.  I worked on electrical.  Then I assembled a new office chair Karen had bought.  Then I heard “the” snap.  

I went to the pantry to investigate, and there was the trap next to Coopers food bin tipped upside down on the floor.  I couldn’t see a mouse, but the trap was askew and clearly had been triggered. As I leaned down to grab the trap, it sprang to life and the entire trap disappeared under Cooper’s food bin.

Seriously. WHAT THE FUCK?  

My first thought was we had caught a garden gnome or some-other mythical creature.  Certainly not a mouse capable of dragging its trap.  This conclusion made the most sense given it was four thirty in the morning.  Whatever it was, it was under Cooper’s bin and strong enough to drag the trap along with it.  Solving the mystery meant opening the pantry door and moving Cooper’s bin.  Two things I didn’t want to do.    

Turns out it wasn’t a Garden gnome, instead, a very furry little fella had reached a paw into the cookie jar and got him self stuck.  Not a mortal wound.  I opened the pantry door, and moved the bin.  Do you have any idea how fast a goddamn mouse is when it has a trap stuck to its arm?  It erupted from under Cooper’s bin, somersaulted across the pantry floor, and retreated back behind the bin.  

The rodentia gymnastics was bit much for me, it was noisy too.  I paused, waiting for Karen or Charlie to join me in my quest.  Either I was too quiet or they were both great playing possum.  Regardless, I was doing this alone.  Mr. Mouse had retreated between two crates along the pantry wall, but could not go any further due to the trap.  I was still standing outside the pantry. 

Stalemate.  

I contemplated ways to kill the mouse.  I didn’t have any gloves and this little fella proved the trap was an inconvenience rather than a death knell.  I killed a mouse once with a broom handle when I was sixteen, but there was no way to get the broom handle in the pantry without actually going into the pantry.  What happens if the broom handle only maims the mouse?  Do mice scream? If this damn thing starts screaming, I swore I would loose my shit.

Ok, so no broom handle.  How about a pellet rifle?  We have lots of those!  This is more humane and has the benefit that I don’t have to get into the pantry.  Ok kids, don’t try this at home.  So I grabbed Charlie’s 1800fps monster pellet rifle and loaded a pellet.  I brought it to the pantry only to realize that the 3x9 scope could not focus on a target that close-up.  I could see trap through the scope, but my furry target was masked in the shadows.  What if I missed?  Would the pellet ricochet?  Could it go through the wall?  Ok, no pellet gun.

How about a bb-gun?  I ran over and grabbed Charlie’s smaller bb-gun but it was out of bb’s.  Shit.  What now?  I’m not gonna lie, I eyed the .22 rifle in the corner, but that would be hard to explain to Karen. 

Ok.  No broom handle.  No pellet gun.  No BB gun.  No .22 rifle.  What about the feral cats that live outside our house?  What if I catch one and throw it into the pantry?  Those cats don’t know us though, they’re not big on taking requests.  Just the same, I turned to the patio and low and behold one of the cats waiting for food!  She looked cold and hungry, I paused from the great mouse hunt, and gently reached into the pantry for the cat food.  Oh the irony.

The cat was fed, the mouse was still entrenched in it’s hidey hole, and my wife and son still fast asleep.  I paced a little while. What if I grab the trap? What if I grab the trap incorrectly and it releases and the mouse runs up my arm? That happened once folks, I’m not making that shit up.  I have never been the same.  I paced a little more.  

Action time, I opened the pantry door and with one swift motion grabbed the trap and mouse letting a garbage bag fall over both, and lifted them to the plastic bin which I quickly covered.

I put my boots on and headed outside.  At the edge of our woods I dumped the contents of the bin.  The feisty bugger made a break for freedom, I reached out a foot and released the trap.  Like a rocket, he bolted into the woods.  Not far enough for my taste so I followed.  He scampered another five feet and stopped. Still too close, so I pursued.  He popped out a second time and disappeared into the darkness for good.

Like I said before, never bye a mouse trap at a gas station.