furry. fuzzy. frenemies.

so a while back, i mentioned that i wanted to write about a bird that flew into my house. i never got around to that post.i also mentioned a while ago that a mouse named timothy had recently taken up residence on spruce st, without paying rent. turns out, actually, timothy had a few lady-mouse friends (4), and he and his harem were taking up much more space then i had thought. i was not a happy landlord.

besides being somewhat gross, both situations have one thing in common: my utter girliness. in both cases this was showcased by my high pitched squealing/screaming, fluttering hands and sheer paralysis due to a weird fear of small, cute creatures.

in all fairness, i really don't like birds. i like the idea of birds (two out of my seven tattoos are birds) but actual birds, with scaly claw feet and beady, darting eyes? no-thank-you, very much. so when this large bird (a dove or pigeon-like thing) flew directly into my house, through the hall and into my room, then smacked into the wall and mirrored closet doors, i flipped out in a minor way. and then when the dogs ran in to check out the commotion and the creature that had knocked itself out was laying on the floor, and i saw myla, my cute/harmless puppy with gray feathers hanging out of her mouth, i flipped out in a major way. long story short, i was happy that my roommate's bfri was in town to help me put the mangled bird body into a trash bag. scrubbing bird guts out of my carpet, on the other hand, didn't make me happy at all. however, cleaning i can do. picking up bodies, well... not my forte.

speaking of picking up bodies (how's that for a segue?!).... i was not so lucky as to avoid the mice bodies. the only way to get rid of timothy and his lady friends was to trap, kill and throw out each and every one of them. four were caught in the boxed 'privacy' traps, as i like to call them (the traps are these big plastic box things, meant to trap then kill the mouse so you don't have to see it or clean anything up. there's even a lever on the side that shows when the trap is set, and when there's a mouse in it! perfect, right?

i picked up the first privacy trap that looked, for all intents and purposes, completely mouse free. i pulled the lever down to reset it, looking inside at the little contraption. BAM! right as i pulled the lever down, a mouse head popped out of the little hole at me. i, of course, dropped it, screamed and ran to the kitchen, jumping on a chair. roommate, who was sweeping close by, ran outside.

i knew i couldn't just leave it there, so i cautiously moved back to the cabinet, and jumped on top (a serious feat). i looked over the edge and could see the white trap, with gray fur sticking out. yikes. roommate came back in, and we poked the trap with the broom, to see if there was any movement (aka, an alive mouse). no movement. we swept the trap into a plastic bag and threw it away outside.one body gone.

thinking i had just one lost, poor confused mouse in the house trying to keep warm, i checked the other traps with no expectations... the second one was free and clear, but as i moved the third i realized that it felt very heavy (relatively: mice weigh maybe like 4 ounces). i gingerly pulled the lever down, and out popped another furry head! again i screamed, dropped and ran. my heart palpitations at this point were out of control, and the adrenaline was coursing through my veins. we eventually got rid of this one too, in a similar broom escapade.

thinking it was just for safe measure, we baited four more privacy traps and were getting ready to set them in the cabinet, when we spotted another mouse, just out and about, in the cabinet, scurrying around. we carefully placed a privacy trap in the cabinet and went around the corner.

snap! the trap went off about three minutes later. mouse three, caught. bearded man, my hero, threw this one out, as part of it was still hanging out of the trap. mouse four was caught the next morning, and i discarded him all by myself (i only dropped it three times in the process). mouse five - the last mouse, who i like to think was timothy the pimp, himself- was found about a week later, in the old-fashioned wooden snap-traps, behind the chair.

since last week, we've been mouse and bird free. which means no dead bodies and bleach scrubbing, no heart palpitations or girl screams, and no scurrying or flying little rodents in my house.

now, if someone could just do something about these two furry things we call dogs...