My son has a new obsession - trapping. And right now his focus is on something there is plenty of around this time of year - mice. He begged and begged for some mouse traps. I had planned on putting them in his stocking (isn't that what every child wants?), but his dad went ahead and bought two 4-packs for him. Wonderful.
He and his buddies, "Korbin & Gavin" have really gotten into this trapping thing. And they are learning how to skin animals too. Again, wonderful.
The boys were over for a bit on Sunday and went outside to check traps. (Mouse traps, that is.) Lane had placed maybe four of them around, a couple in the shed and a couple in the hunting shack, that morning before church. Lucky boy - he caught a mouse.
Lane came charging in the house and asked for a stapler. "Why do you need a stapler?" "I need to staple the mouse legs to a board while we skin it. It's dead." Um, o-kay.
Later that afternoon, Lane set all 8 traps up in various buildings at our place. What a happy little fella he was yesterday to find that 7 out of 8 traps were victorious. The one lone wolf...we're not sure what happened. The trap is gone. I don't know if that means there is a mouse walking around with a trap attached to it, or there is a raccoon or squirrel with one hanging on. (I was glad to see that neither cat was carrying around a trap - and I haven't seen the rabbit with one either.)
I almost took pictures of the mouse hide, which is attached to a board right next to my door in the garage, but I thought some may not appreciate such a glorious site.
I'm certainly no fan of mice, but I do have a little compassion for them...as long as they're not in my house or camper.
About three weeks ago, Madolyn let Boots in the back patio door. As soon as she let her come in, she yelled "Uh-OH!" I looked over and could see that Boots had a little treasure in her mouth. I told Mad immediately to throw the kitty back outside. She was standing there screaming and flailing her arms and Boots let the mouse go. The mouse headed for the living room. I grabbed a dust pan and broom. (What is it about a dust pan and broom that brings about a sense of security?) Lane ran and grabbed a cowboy boot. I was yelling to catch that mouse, I did NOT want it in my room!
We were all scrambling around trying to trap the mouse and get it in the dust pan. I finally got close and it just scurried on over the side of the dust pan and ran behind the couch. I had Madolyn dig an empty hot chocolate container out of the trash can and I ditched the dust pan. The kids tipped the couch back and I waited. The little stinker was hiding under a throw pillow (not sure why it was back there) and we threw Boots in there as Mad lifted the pillow. Boots did nothing. Pitiful.
The mouse headed towards my bedroom. I slammed the door shut, but know full well a mouse can squeeze throw the tiniest of holes. I'm still yelling that we have to get the mouse. It turns and heads back towards the kitchen, and my sweet lad bopped it over the head with his cowboy boot right there on the kitchen floor. That pretty much took care of the situation...and then Madolyn started crying. She was furious that he had killed it. I was a little taken aback, but delighted that there wasn't a mouse free in my house or bedroom.
I grabbed the motionless varmint and tossed it out from whence it came (ha - Jerry Clower reference). Then got the mop to scrub the kitchen floor. (I did thank Lane for killing it on the kitchen floor and not the carpet.)
Lane was pretty pleased with himself and made sure to mock his sister for crying. I tried to explain to him that I was happy he took care of the situation, but it was a little cruel...and he replied, So is a mouse trap or poison. Okay, you got me there. I suppose I'm okay with that because I'm not standing there when death knocks on their door, you know.
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