House Mouse

We moved into an apartment building totally paranoid about sharing our space with the usual suspects – that is, roaches and bed bugs. We have neither. What we do have is an ongoing gnawing inside the wall under the windowsill in our office, and the occasional sighting of small grey mice in our kitchen.

Having come from an old turn-of-the-century house, we were accustomed to mice. And roaches and one particularly bad infestation of moths. So Mr. Mouse and his family aren’t finding much to eat in my kitchen where food is always stored in containers and never left out.

Before Spook died of cancer in March, the two cats would do regular kitchen stake-outs, and would catch the occasional mouse. One night Bowie joined in and proved that dogs are actually better mousers than cats. But since then, our remaining cat Mollie hasn’t had much interest.

Until this morning when she seemed convinced that Ceiling Cat was behind the file cabinet in the office. And was still sitting there 45 minutes later. So I lifted the cabinet, and sure enough – Mr. Mouse. Who was not terribly impressed.

Then somehow, the cat and both dogs wandered off, and Mr. Mouse came out and hid behind a ream of paper on the bookshelf. I tried to catch him a couple of times, but he sat there shaking, and when he took off behind the bookshelf, I didn’t bother to try and dig him out.

I know it’s probably freaky and unsanitary to not try to catch and kill Mr. Mouse, but he’s not getting into our food and I’ve never seen droppings anywhere, even under the fridge or stove, where he mostly hangs out.

Funny that I’ll kill the odd cockroach when they appear every six months or so, but can’t bring myself to off Mr. Mouse. He’s lucky he’s cute.