Mouseville

Do you remember Mouseville in the Green Mile? It is a place for mice to be taken to live out the remainder of its years.

“Visitors pay a dime apiece, two cents for the kids. Inside the tent they got this mouse city made out of old boxes and toilet paper rolls, little windows so you can look in. They got the Mouseville All-Star Circus. There’s mice that swing on trapeze. Mice that roll barrels. Mice that stack coins.”

I always liked the sound of Mouseville but I am telling you, it is no longer in Tallahassee. It is at a farm in Warrington.

I don’t know if it was the chickens living by the house for a few months or the increase of hay in the horse stables but I’d say, for the past year, we have been renting our house from the mice.

They have moved in and I am sick of it.

They are cute. I can’t deny that. They are the smallest mice I have ever seen-so small, it looks like they are missing a body-all head and tail but I just wish they would put their belongings in a little nap-sack, put it over their tiny shoulders and return to the barn or wherever they came from.

I’ve lost count of how many we’ve had. One lived in Boo’s room for a bit. I’ve seen one in our bedroom, in the kitchen, the office, in the living room on Christmas Eve and the latest one last night.

I suppose kids are another big attraction for mice. The crumbs they produce are perfect. With our living room on the second floor, we try to implement a food-ban upstairs but it is not always enforced. Every crumb I see on the carpet gets hoovered up asap but still they come.

We have a mouse-hunting dog, who has only caught one in all of this time but she is conscientious in hunting them down and, driving us mad in the process. There are times she will jump on my knee and I think ‘oh bless her, she’s come for a cuddle.’ Only for her to have a quick pat on the head and proceed to try and burrow down the sofa at the side of me.

We live on a farm. I know it comes with the territory but seriously, I nearly went into labour when one ran across the bathroom when I was able to go for the first time in peace last night.

My worst fear is the night feeds with the new baby and a mouse running across the room.

So please read this, little lodgers. I don’t hate you but I hate you living with us. Please leave and return to the Mouseville outside where there is much more suitable fodder for your delicate little mouths.