Off the cuff: The man and the mouse
I am fighting an insurgency against a small and determined furry enemy
The mouse is back! After two months of absence, the little critter has returned. And despite all of my best efforts, he’s managing to evade capture.
I feel right now as if I’m fighting an insurgency against an enemy that doesn’t want to face me in the open. He strikes when he wants, avoiding all of my security measures and, in military parlance, is hitting my supply chains.
This furry enemy was first spotted around two months ago. Then nearest thing then to a full-scale military confrontation was my chasing him for dear life around the kitchen, frying pan in hand, swearing like a trooper and promising to bash its brains in if it came within reach of my flailing frying pan. Not a hope. It managed to scurry across the draining board, did a nifty little shimmy around the hot-and-cold-water taps, lunged through the recycling before making an escape behind a fitted kitchen cupboard and vanishing somewhere into the skirting boards.
This brazen assault by this terrorist on my homeland meant that I had to deploy full defensive measures. There was a three-fold strategy. First, perimeter defensive shield measures were deployed using sonic things plugged into sockets that were supposed to deter any incursions. Secondly, I deployed chemical warfare measure, laying down bait in strategic locations, like behind the skirting board, up and under fitted cupboards and down any holes or cracks I could see. And thirdly, my last line of defence — mouse traps, to immediately deploy lethal force at a moment’s notice.
We finally agreed that peanut butter, tantalisingly smeared over the pressure points would tempt all mice — even vegan ones if there’s such a species — to its last supper.
Combined, they make for an impressive array against furry intruders. Combined, they’re useless. The mouse is back — undeterred, unharmed, unpoisoned, un-mousetrapped.
And when I say he’s attacking my supply chain, the half-consumed bag of pasta is collateral damage in this war of man versus mouse.
Yes — he’s been nibbling at my pasta. Shock and gnaw, you might say.
There has been a crisis cabinet meeting held and the consensus is that further defensive measures will need to deployed.
Elusive enemy
There is talk here now at this critical time of a full-scale search and destroy mission. That might involve stripping away all the contents of everything in the kitchen and forcibly relocating it to the living room.
Once that’s done, every cupboard will need to be checked, cleaned, any trace of mouse activity erased, making sure the territory I am protecting contains nothing that can be used by this elusive enemy. And yes, a full deployment then of more bait and a full arsenal of mousetraps. I’ve just bought a dozen more.
The man in the hardware shop says his wife is petrified of the creatures and would move if she could if there was a mouse in his house. We had a long discussion about what to use as bait for the traps. We finally agreed that peanut butter, tantalisingly smeared over the pressure points would tempt all mice — even vegan ones if there’s such a species — to its last supper.
I checked the number for an exterminator but that somehow would be an admission of failure. In my mind, it would be like dropping the nuclear bomb when you’re dealing with a terrorist incursion — a determined and sustained one, mind you. I don’t think that’s an appropriate response. From everything that I’ve read, it is important to, in the words of those souvenir tea towels they sell in London, keep calm and carry on. Yes. Keep it in perspective. Hold the nerve, show a bit of steel. It is but a temporary crisis. This too shall pass.
No. I’m calling out the special forces.
Time to get a cat.