Where did my infant go?

Facts of Life

There is something about the common mouse that can bring most women the their knees. Personally, I believe it is because they move very fast, and going up against an opponent who can out maneuver you in seconds is a bit intimidating. I have never been bothered by mice, and although I don't want to have them around as pets, I also don't relish the idea of killing them on sight either.

We live in a rental home that was built in the 1940s and unfortunately has experienced it fair share of mice invasions. We used to have a descent feral cat population in my neighborhood and they kept things under control in their own special way. However a new neighbor decided these cats were a nuisance and worked with the city to have them rounded up. Since then we have seen an explosion in mice--and snakes for that matter. This same neighbor ended up having a series bad things happen, including her house being condemned forcing her to move away. I guess it is true that what goes around comes around, but I digress...

Evidence of our most recent tiny visitor showed up several days ago, and it was with heavy heart that I baited and set traps all around the usual entry spots. Saturday morning my daughter and I set out to start some Spring cleaning and I opened the cabinet under the sink to find a poor victim in the trap. My daughter is only 5-years-old and very tender hearted, so I set about to quietly dispose of the body without her ever knowing about it. I grabbed a paper bag and reached in to grab the trap (the super awesome snap trap by Tom Cat) when I realized it had caught him by the leg, and he was not dead. Only very, very weak and using what strength he had left to try to get away from me.

This was the worst possible scenario for me.

It is not in me to kill anything except bugs, and even they stand a fighting chance with me as long as they stay outside the house. I am a realist, though, and it would be foolish to share a house with these little balls of fur, let them urinate and defecate along my floors and counters and ruin the insulation and wiring within the walls. I could see that he had spent most of the night chewing at the trap, and his leg was in very bad shape. Finishing him off would have been the humane thing to do to. But instead, I chose to do the only humane thing I was capable of doing, and that was getting a towel to wrap him in and set him outside to die as comfortably as I could.

As I was trying to make my way out the back door my daughter saw me and inquired as to what I had and what I was doing. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to upset her either. So I said I found a mouse and he was very, very tired and wanted to go to sleep. She immediately felt sorry for the little guy and asked me to sing to him, and not just any song. She wanted the song I've sung to her since she was an infant that helped her go to sleep--"Take Me Out to the Ballgame."

So there I am standing in the kitchen with this pitiful creature, and my precious girl saying "Sing Ballgame, mama."

It broke my heart.

I told her I would do it outside. But I didn't. Instead I found a little spot beside the house where I could lay the towel and it not be in the sun and no one would bother it. I asked him and God to forgive me, folded him up so he would be warm and left him.

I checked on him several hours later and he was no longer in the towel.