Unwelcome visitors ..

Or, there's a mouse in the House

 I've never been plagued at home by rodents, not even when I lived in Soho where apparently you're never more than seven feet away from a rat ... the four legged variety, of course. My other half puts that down to the fact I never cooked when I lived on my own which is true to a certain extent and since I travelled frequently there was never any food left lying around.

 So, unless any furry visitors to my pad carried a can opener it was pretty pointless making a nest in a food-free house.

 However since I left London's Zone 1 and made my new home in the Borders, I've grown used to sharing with an odd assortment of wildlife ranging from bats, jackdaws and things that scamper around. Usually I'm not too bothered by these squatters as most are nocturnal though the jackdaws are noisy at around 6.30am, especially when they've got their young tucked away inside the eaves.

Trapped by a Twix

 Mostly it's a case of out of sight, out of mind but if you're going to squat somewhere you should either be invisible or clean up after you. As regular readers of this blog know, I'm becoming an expert in animal poo - no shit, really! Just a few days ago I noticed tell-tale mouse droppings under the kitchen sink and decided to take action. I went and bought a mouse trap - not just any old trap; it was a humane one so I wouldn't have to unpick a squashed body from a guillotine device in the unlikely event of catching the damn critter. I positively balked at some sticky tape - I mean what would happen if you actually caught something? How would you unpick it and how would you handle your unwelcome visitor?

 So, using a squashed Twix bar - Tom and Jerry cartoons aside, mice don't go gaga over cheese - I set the trap and went off to watch the TV. Returning to the kitchen to make a coffee a couple of hours later I heard a scratching sound and looked at the trap's window. Unbelievable! I'd caught a bloody mouse and it was non too happy about its predicament and neither was I. Stage two had not been planned, nor even contemplated so I do what any sane person would do in this situation - I tweeted, asking for advice.

 The responses were fast and furious. Some daft, some cruel and some unprintable but all had a common theme ... make sure your unwelcome visitor does not run back inside before you do. So the best option, it seems, was to free my captive well away from the house and at first light off we drove nearly two miles down the road. 

 Pulling into a forest tract, two bemused Forestry Commission workers looked on as I explained the mission. That was a couple of weeks ago and since then my unwelcome visitor hasn't returned and nor have I found any other traces of mice poo. And for the Doubting Thomas types, click on below for a truly happy ending.

                                         A HAPPY ENDING