I would not eat them with a mouse...
2001 07 05
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Apparently, I have a houseguest. A small, furry houseguest.
I'm sure, if I could see it, it would have a terribly cute twitchy nose, twitchy whiskers, and scurry away in its nervous little manner.
It would also probably shun the lovely peanutbutter-filled live traps that I tried to use last time I had a small, furry houseguest.
I heard it in the kitchen just a moment ago, nosing around an empty plastic grocery bag I'd left on the floor.
I had heard the landlord talking to another tenant the other day; saying that they were having an exterminator in. That's no guarantee though.
I find the intrusive little guest to be just that, intrusive; though a wee little field mouse is far less of a bother than some other pests I could have ended up living with.
As long as it doesn't go running over my feet, or doing its business loudly like it did the last time it came over, I'll be all right.
They are noisy little bastards at times.