Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Our House Is a Very, Very, Very Fine House (Or, Like Boxes of Shit in Your House?)

Anyone who's been to our house lately has probably seen a mouse. The babysitter saw one and fled upstairs, leaving the sink running.

We've struggled with mice on and off for at least a year. In Oak Park, where most of the houses are old, mice tend to come in at this time of year. But this year we were not able to get rid of them, even in spring and through the summer. They had taken up permanent residence. We set dozens of traps, all kinds of traps, but we rarely caught any.

Traps didn't work, we weren't willing to try poison. And friends who engaged Orkin were told they should dig a trench around their foundation or something crazy like that.

That didn't sound good to us either.

So ... meet our new family members. The tortoiseshell is named Myrtle Louise, and the gray tabby is Kaitie the Kitten Fairy.



Nutmeg literally vibrated with joy and anticipation as we went through the adoption process yesterday.
At dinner, while her new pet and mine were tucked away in their basket in the bathroom, Nutmeg announced, "This is the best day of my life."

She meant it, too.

I never thought we were cat people. I mean, like the Onion article said, who likes boxes of shit in their house? But so far, I must say I can see the advantages of these "cat" creatures. Myrtle, the one I picked out, just spontaneously jumped into my lap as I was typing and started the purr engine. Gotta like that. Now Epu's got them playing like crazy with a long string of beads.

The mice? Well, they haven't caught any yet. At 3 months old, they're scarcely bigger than the mice. But I will say that the two days we have had these kittens are the only days all week that we haven't actually seen a mouse.

So that's something.

2 comments:

Epu said...

They stalked something to the downstairs heat vent yestereve, and on the far side, scooted a black mouse. Give them time to stalk each side of the heat vent!

Jeanna said...

I smile as I write this primarily because we don't live there anymore, but my husband and I use to make bets about how long before we'd hear the "snap" of the mouse trap. He won most times. I secretly hoped they would crawl out of whatever hole they came through and find freedom, but that sort of thinking is for my 3 year old.