Cath was away in London last Friday night and Ava was tucked up in bed. So I was sitting alone in the living room when a small house mouse went scurrying across the carpet. There was a fleeting moment when we looked at each other before he scampered off behind a bookcase. I don’t know which one of us looked more surprised.
We have had visits from mice in the past. Being an old stone cottage there must be lots of ways that they can find their way inside. The last time was a couple of years ago when a mouse chewed through the dishwasher drain pipe before we got him with pest control poison. I know it’s not humane, but frankly it’s the only way to get rid of them.
Anyway, poison has been put down and duly scoffed. There hasn’t been any activity for a couple of days, so the problem may have been sorted. On the other hand this could become the same kind of long-running saga as Squirrel Notes.
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