Operation Jerry Busting

  After yesterday's post about taking Mousey down I went to the shops and bought some cheap mouse traps. Not nearly as vicious and violent as I wantedbut what can you expect for two bucks?

My friend Judie suggested baiting them with burnt bacon and while I do concede she know more about Australian fauna than I do, I decided to go with the classic peanut butter. Not because I felt that my notion was better but strictly because we had eaten out at the RSL last night and if I got out of cooking for the family I sure as Hell wasn't going to waste the night off on a damn mouse. Yes, I stretch my loathing off all things cooking related to that silly extreeme. I'm neither proud nor ashamed of myself for that. It's just who I am.

4 traps were set last night in an attempt to cease the existence of two mice. How many karked it during Operation Jerry Buster? 

Zero.

That's right. Not one trap went off last night.  In fact, I shared this jewel of a picture on Facebook this morning.

Good old Jerry came up, ate the peanut butter off the damn trap and didn't set it off. Fine. I can take a set back. Wars are one after many battles, I get that.  So I asked my husband Ted to head out to Bunnings (Australian Home Depot or Lowes) and get something a wee bit more deadly and tricky for mice.

This is what he brought back.

I know I'm a bit judgemental but really? Does this scream, "Die Bastard Mice!  Welcome to HELL!!!!" to you?  Personally I see a mice-sized horizontal ferris wheel and some very butch hair clips.  

I went upstairs to have some quiet alone time. I must be honest, I'm feeling a bit dejected about this home invasion stuff.  Also, as much as I talk a good game, I don't really enjoy killing things. Certainly don't like seeing them suffer...just doesn't sit well with me. I decide to get a shower to clear my head.

I walk in and there is one of the traps on the side of the tub.  Just as pristine as it was when it was set last night.  Dejected I pick it up gently so I don't set it off on my fingers.  That's when I noticed that Jerry II has pooped all around the trap and then eaten a chunk of the peanut butter off.

Now I have to scrub the damn tub before I even get into it.  As resistant as I am to normaly cleaning you can guess who much I enjoy extra work.  this sets my ever darkening moodly spirally down to Hell.  As I'm gathering the cleanerMonty comes up behind me and tries to trip me as I walk by. Seems the bowl of food is out again. Tripping me up is his subtle way of suggesting I get up off of my ass and feed him.

Really. The house is being over run by multiple rodents. Both of whom I'm sure HE brought in and he can't be stuffed to kill one to eat?

I admit it.  I kind of lost it a little bit then. I stood there and chewed the cat a new one for being the,"Worst hunter gatherer, EVER!!!"  I shook my finger at him, I drew pictures in the air of what it looks like when a real cat hunts and then I said a few unkind words about his mother's previous occupations.

We've come to a bit of an understanding, he and I. He sat and listened to me, I cleaned and then showered while he nibbled on his food. Then I came back to sit on my bed and type this post. Monty reflected on my harsh words and set out to work on doing what he does best.

He's cold, I'm warm and we've already bought the traps anyway.

Can't argue with his logic.