We have a sometimes mouse—at least until Friday night, that is. Colin claimed never to have actually seen the mouse before then, but I had caught glimpses of a scurrying furry ball maybe three different times.
To humor me, last weekend Colin constructed a mouse trap that involved a staircase of books leading to a weight-triggered trap that would leave any mouse with a taste for parmigian helpless at the bottom of a slick waste bin. Apparently the parmigian wasn’t tempting enough to lure our uninvited roommate.
Friday night, though, it was cornered. We barricaded the poor pitiful bugger into the corner with an extra sheet while we figured out what to do next. When trying to trap it under a box and scoop it up with a mixing bowl didn’t work, I grabbed the Trader Joe’s bag it had been cowering behind and placed it so the mouse could crawl into it if Colin made enough terrifying knocking noises from the other direction. Success.
Colin ran it right down to the dumpsters behind the building, hoping it finds enough out there to keep it occupied forever.