building a better mousetrap

A mouse.


In the house.

I've held off on posting this for quite some time, lest you think we live in rodent-infested squalor in backwater Oregon. Before you get on the phone to Child Services, the reality of the situation is that our house borders a large meadow, where deer, elk and, apparently, mice come to play. This tiny little guy (and by tiny, I mean no more than two inches long) found a portal to the warm and cozy confines we affectionately call "Pinkee" through a gap beneath the fireplace. Reid had suspected his presence in the way of strategically-placed droppings beneath the couch and one rumored sighting, but yours truly needed visual confirmation for herself. That confirmation came late one night while we were watching a movie. The ol' did-you-see-that-out-of-the-
corner-of-your-eye sort of thing.

Commence Operation Bag A Mouse.

Or in this case, box. I was convinced we could catch him (or her) without use of barbaric methods involving steel jaws and cheese, so we laid out a quick ambush plan. Corner mouse behind TV. Confuse mouse with flashlight. Startle mouse, causing mouse to flee. Guide mouse into large cardboard box. Reid had the ingenious idea of placing said box directly in front of the fireplace portal, assuming mice are creatures of habit and would not have a Plan B exit strategy. And he was right. Here, proof that we are indeed smarter than a mouse:


Well, if you could've seen us---jumping up and down, high-fiving, yelling "we rule" and what not. It was truly an amazing feat, in our estimation. The celebration ended with a ceremonial release back to the meadow from whence he came, albeit to the furthest possible corner from our house. We felt a little bad that we literally scared the poop out of him (see above photo), but hopefully he won't be back.