While I’m thinking about stories involving mice, I figured I would share this story. Not for the squeamish.

For a few years, I lived in a house that I refer to as the shack. It was a very small house. Small enough it only took 3 steps to get to any room.

Since the shack was out in the middle of nowhere, we frequently had mice try to move in when it got cold. I had two cats that apparently didn’t mind sharing space (but the one tried to kill my then husband regularly, but that’s another story).

Mouse traps were common place and during the fall you would hear them snapping regularly. One day I caught 8 in an hour. Yuck. Mice are nasty.

I guess one of the traps I set was not set right. When I checked it, the mouse it caught was still alive as the trap only caught part of its head. I’ll leave most the details out, but his one eye dangled a bit. So I released him outside, feeling really bad that he was hurt. My intent is to never cause any animal to suffer, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill it. So I hoped for a quick death.

Well, I wake up the next morning. Hang my legs off the bed, feet not touching the floor yet, when I see a little fuzzy something on the floor. I focus my eyes, let out a blood curdling scream and jump standing on the water bed.

Yeah.. what did I see… a little mouse staring up at me with one eye dangling. Oh, you could see he was plotting his revenge. He just sat there staring at me (well and the floor). There I am in an all out panic still recovering from being held hostage by a mouse, dancing around on the water bed saying “yuck. Yuck. Yuck.”

I yell for my cats. Oh yeah, they were helpful. They came running, and sat on the floor waiting for a treat. They see the mouse and ignore it. Really? I’m now yelling at my cats to “kill it” while pointing at the mouse who is still staring at me (and the floor) plotting my death. The cats decide they are bored with my game and wonder off disinterested.

Oh hell… I’m gonna have to deal with this myself I finally realize as I’m still dancing around on the water bed freaked out by the one-eyed mouse who’s plotting my death. So I muster up that backbone that served me so well during the aforementioned hostage crisis with a fugitive mouse.

I pole vault off the bed landing in the living room (actually almost through the front window since it was 3 steps to anywhere). I grab a box in the kitchen and come back to scoop up the one-eyed mouse. My skin is crawling.

Outside I go running with the box containing the one-eyed mouse. This time I decide the mouse must die before it tries to carry out its plot against me. But it’s too tiny to break its neck…

Well, we’ll just leave it as the mouse died and was cremated. I am now thoroughly creeped out by mice.

Traumatizing I tell you, but, ok, funny as hell.