Victory is mine

I promise this will be the last time I post anything about mousey. I finally know where he is, and he's not going to escape anymore. 100% guaranteed.

How can I be so certain? Well, I'll come to that...

The last two nights he's not made a sound. No rustling around, no eeks, no scrabbling. If it wasn't for the little pieces of mouse poo on top of the fridge we may have thought he'd finally left us or died.

But last night was awful. His scrabbling woke TT up so many times she was almost reduced to tears. We were convinced he was under the floorboards of the bedroom and at one point she woke me by jumping up and down on the floor by the door and yelling "LET ME GET SOME SLEEP YOU IRRITATING LITTLE SHIT!!!!" which is quite out of character for her (I'm glad to say)

This morning we woke, quite bleary eyed from lack of substantial sleep, and got about or morning routine. I checked the fridge and commented to TT that it was odd that he hadn't shit on it at all. "No! Because he was too busy making noises under the freakin' floorboards all bloody night!"

Didn't think too much more of it. TT was getting ready for work and I was cooking her breakfast in the kitchen. She came through and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see her looking very sad. "What's up baby?" I asked. She just said "Mouse. In my work bag. In there." and pointed to the bedroom.

My heart leapt. "Are you sure?!" I asked. She nodded. "Where is he now?" I demanded. "Under bed. He jumped at me again..."

That was it. Battle stations. I ran through to the bedroom with two plastic containers for mouse en-trapping and closed the door behind me. We've already checked that room and we know there are no holes or any way for mousey to gain entrance, or for that matter, exit, other than through an open door.

After carefully emptying stuff from under the bed I'd almost lost faith. There was only one item left - a roll of christmas wrapping paper. I picked it up, sighed, and then looked down it. Guess what?! Mousey! Already trapped in a tube of paper!

I immediately squeezed both ends so that he couldn't escape then began my victory dance and song.

I didn't want to "deal" with him until TT had gone to work so I sellotaped up both ends and then for extra security put the tube in the bath, blocked the plug hole and closed the shower doors.

Last week I thought I had him cornered behind the washing machine and built this prison:


It's a full length mirror that one of TT's friends gave her as a birthday present. I've layed it lengthways across the recess and the pile of books to the left are to keep it securely snug against the wall. At the right edge you can see where I've put a yellow arrow. This is a tiny gap under which I'd figured the mouse must have escaped the night before, so this time I'd blocked it using this cunning strategum:


Yes, it may look like folded up junk mail wedged under the sliding door. And yes, that's exactly what it is. That's what some cunning plans look like. And yet the little bastard had still somehow escaped and managed to do this:


Yes. It's a close up shot of my passport on top of the fridge. And what's that I've circled? (You'll need to click to enbiggen) Oh yes, it's a little puddle of mouse wee. And the other circle? Oh yes, that's a little mouse shit. Every bloody night during his week long tenancy he's done that to my passport.

But that was then, and this is now. Here's the trapped mouse:


I stood it up to take the photo, it was laying in the bottom of the bath until after TT had gone to work. I went and checked it every few minutes to ensure he was still in there. The checking involved tilting the tube, rain-maker style, and hearing him slide to the other end. Only gently of course.

Before TT left for work she'd said that if I managed to get a picture of live mouse then her blog readers would love it. So I then secured the bathroom and released him into the bath. Here he is in two poses two show his lack of deadness:



Look at the little bastard - even now he refuses to cooperate and smile for the camera...

I then poked him with the tube to make him move and took this one:


Then it was time to deal with him. Plastic container time:

I know you can't see him very clearly there, because the plastic isn't very clear. But that was him trapped, in a box.

I was very tempted to post the box to Fitness Farce, the gym TT is getting shit from. I was quite bemused by the idea of the horrible lady there opening a box and having a very pissed off mouse jump out at her.

But I decided that would possibly land me in trouble so I decided against it.

I went to my laptop and fired up "Stuck in the middle with you" from the soundtrack of Reservoir Dogs....

So that takes me back to how I began this post: "I finally know where he is, and he's not going to escape anymore. 100% guaranteed."

Because the little shit is dead and corpse is in my garbage which is due to be collected any minute now. Yay hay! The mouse is dead! Here endeth the mousey-era...