Living on the farm, we are used to creatures great and small.
Hubster often jokes that even our garden is a hive of activity. From the farm cats who like to tease the dog, to escaped chickens, goats, ducks, even a newt.
It is safe to say that we are used to the intrusion and, at times we actively encourage it-much to the children’s delight.
We live on a farm. It is only right that we share our living space with animals. Most of them are like family.
There is however one group of creatures that can stay away from the house thank you.
I accept that all farms have rodents and I can live with mice in the barns. I would even go so far as to say they are quite cute and I have photographed them when they have shown theirselves behind hay bales and the like.
Once they cross that threshold into our home, I am afraid we have to take action.
This week I pulled everything out in the kitchen to clean behind. There were the tell-tale signs of mouse-activity (droppings) so many things were discarded, Hubster was texted and copious amounts of disinfectant was used.
The dog, who had been sniffing a lot (also a sign-she is a Jack Russell after all) was in over-drive, trying to track the little critters down.
I did think maybe the droppings were not fresh-I have had a baby and a caesarean so I think I can be forgiven for not deep cleaning sooner but with the dog going crazy, I did wonder whether Miss Mouse was alive and well-mainly thanks to crumbs left by the children. If I was a mouse-I would live here.
The next night, Hubster saw the mouse and it ran down the side of the fridge. It must have been small as we struggled getting the fridge into that space.
So operation catch-the-mouse began.
The next evening, Rosie joined me (still on the sofa with the baby) while a trap with peanut butter was left.
Having to go into the kitchen that night was terrifying. I dread the sound of the snap whilst I am in there and the dog had to stay upstairs in the living rooms for fear of a snapped nose or her messing with a dead mouse.
I couldn’t look. I actually put my hand over my eyes-scary movie style while I got a drink and scurried back upstairs.
As the night (feeds) went on and dawn began to break, I plucked up the courage to look and, sure enough Mr Bojangles had met his maker.
I was however in a dilemma. It was 4.20am. The dog needed to go out to do her business but I knew if I let her sniff the mouse, she would chew it.
So I carried her outside and used a dustpan and brush to remove said rodent from the house. I did leave it on top of the bin to show Hubster though who was very pleased that we were no longer sharing our living space with the little pest.
I know some people will think us mean for killing the mouse but I am afraid it is the only way on the farm.
It is actually quite rare for a mouse to be in the house when it is so warm outside. They usually only come in during the winter.
Let’s hope we are left alone for a bit now.