It seems my office has a mouse. Everyday, there are new reports that he has ransacked someone's snack drawer. Today, I put up a poster about it: Wanted Dead or Alive it reads. The reward I offered was a mini-bag of Cheez-Its, something any mouse would appreciate, much less his human counterparts at work.
This past weekend, friends shared a picnic table with us and told story after story about mice and other small critters. The best one had to be from a woman who said that one day a chipmunk scampered across her kitchen floor... being pursued by the family cat... who was pursued by a dog... and yet followed by another dog. She said she had jumped upon the counter and found herself standing in the trash can as the animals ran frantically 'round and 'round.
Mice are really cute until they are running free in your home or office. A co-worker suggested we lay a trap for ours. "Let's get a shoe box and prop it up with a stick," she suggested. "I think I'll ask maintenance to set a squirrel cage-style trap," I countered. I have this picture in my head of her lying on the floor all night, holding a string attached to that stick and shoe-box rig, calling, "Here, mousie, mousie." Somehow, I think this critter will be with us a while.
You don't even want to hear about how *I* deal with mice.
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