Let the mouse hunting season begin

It seems my garage is the go-to destination for just about every mouse in Laramie County. But unluckily for the mice, I have funky-mad hunting and trapping skills. Sort of.

I don’t know why the mice like my garage, but they do. It’s not like there’s a bunch of good stuff for them to eat in there, though there is a lot of stuff that isn’t probably particularly tasty, but that mice seem to like to chew up, and I would rather they didn’t. And for the past few months, that’s exactly what they’ve been doing.

So I’ve started trying my best to eradicate the little rodents from my garage. It hasn’t been easy, because the garage isn’t exactly mouse-proof. New ones seem to come in about as fast as I can catch the ones that were already there.

It’s a good thing I’m such a clever, experienced trapper. Yes, that was sarcasm. But I did luck out and find a trap, through sheer chance, that mice can’t seem to resist. It’s a live trap, and it doesn’t need any bait. It’s just a box with a tunnel through it, and mice love to go into tight spaces. When they go into this one, they trip a switch, and the trap flings them into a catch pen.

Granted, this means I have to figure out what to do with the mice that get caught, and I admit I’m a bit too much of a softy to do what I should. When I caught the first few, I put the trap in the back of the truck and drove them out to the end of my driveway, and I let them go. I reasoned that they’d be quickly and humanely snuffed by the owls that live in our neighborhood, but in actuality, they probably just hoofed it to my neighbors’ garages. That’s not very conducive to neighborly relations, so my wife insisted I do the dirty deed myself.

I won’t bore you with the details, but it involves shooing the mouse out of the trap and into a Ziplock bag. To accomplish the quick, humane part of the process, I’ve gone though some trials and errors. I just hope the mice stop coming in, or I may have to go back to feeding the owls again.

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