It’s like motherfucking Wild Kingdom around here these days. WILD KINGDOM OF THE DAMNED.
So here’s what happened.
I was sitting in my living room this morning trying to jump-start my brain with epic doses of caffeine, when I heard a very light scratching sound coming from behind our TV cabinet. The scratching sound lasted for perhaps two or three seconds and then stopped, so I shrugged it off. Our house was built in 1914, it makes all kinds of random and unexplainable noises, believe me. I mean, if I got freaked out every time I heard scratching, or the sound of rattling chains in the basement, or blood curdling screams coming from the attic at 3am, well, I’d be freaked out a whole lot of the time. Anyway, a few moments later I looked to my left and saw a teeny tiny gray baby mouse punch-drunkenly climbing out from behind the cabinet over the thick white satellite TV cables strung along the baseboard.
Right about this time, give or take a few stunned, horrified seconds, was when I began running around in circles like a cartoon character, hands flailing wildly, repeating over and over like a mental patient off her Very Important Meds: OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO OH NO. Yeah, so basically I’m real good in a crisis and stuff.
I then did what any sane person would do, which was find a bowl, plunk it down over the mouse to trap it, and then proceed to stand there for five minutes with my mouth hanging open staring at said bowl, as if awaiting further directives from the part of my brain containing Reason and Problem Solving skills. Sadly, my brain was all, Dude, I’ve done what I can. You’re kind of on your own from here on out — I have some equations related to wave-particle duality I need to be working through. I’M OUT! Stupid brain.
At that moment I was standing about two feet away from my desk (and I use the term “desk” loosely — it’s not so much an actual, functional workspace, but rather a shambolic dumping ground for bills and paperwork and other distinctly Not Fun things I don’t really want to deal with (an appointment request card from my dentist has been sitting atop one of the several piles that comprise the mountainous terrain of my desk for well over 6 months; my teeth will surely rot and liquify before I make that goddamn appointment now that the card has been consigned to The Desk Of No Return)), so I grabbed the nearest folder and gingerly scooted it, inch by inch, under the now-mouse-filled-bowl.
On a motherfuckin’ roll (I AM A WOMAN OF ACTION! TAKING CHARGE OF THE VERY SERIOUS AND COMPLEX MOUSE SITUATION! YEAH!!!!), I gently picked up the folder/mouse/bowl and took it out onto our broad front walk, so that upon release from its bowl-prison the baby mouse would instantly be vulnerable, exposed and clearly visible to birds of prey from the air.
Yeah that’s not very impressive.
Okay, how about this?:
DINNER IS SERVED!
Okay, a couple of things to note here:
2. OH MY GOD IT’S SO CUTE I COULD DIE, GAH! Why do disease-infested vermin have to be so cute, whhhhhy???
3. Okay, and this is the eerie part: it’s a baby. Barely had it’s eyes open. Was still unsteady as a newborn foal. So you know what this means, right? THERE IS A NEST OF MICE SOMEWHERE IN MY HOUSE. AIIEEEEE!!!!!
4. © Copyright Walt Disney Records, 2009. All rights reserved. OH I KEED!
(Sorry, got a little caps-lock crazy there. Deeeeep breaths.)
So after a few stunned and trembling seconds, baby mouse scuttled off under the ivy surrounding our front porch. Which probably means that baby mouse will be reappearing inside my house within 24 hours. But really, what am I going to do? Feed it to my cats? Flush it down the toilet? Create a baby-mouse-inspired theme park and animation studio and become a bazillionare? Oh, wait…
(The truth I’m trying very hard not to admit to myself is that baby mouse is probably done for. Poor thing could barely walk yet — he’s not going to present much of a challenge to nearby wildlife with the fever for the flavor of the mouses. Can’t say I don’t feel bad, I’m kind of a pussy about cute fuzzy mammals truth be told, but it’s not like we could keep it…)
(Alright, fine, Circle Of Life and shit, I’m over it. Sigh. Stupid life circle.)
So cute! SO CUTE.
Good thing your daughter wasn't in the immediate vicinity; I can hear the whining now: MOM!! CAN WE KEEP IT?? CAN WE, CAN WE, CAN WE??? BUT **MOM**!!! It's SO CUTEEEEE!!!!!!
😉
GAH.
my mom lives out in the boonies in Wisconsin. and I was once in her kitchen and I saw a tiny baby mouse CRAWL OUT FROM ONE OF THE BURNERS ON HER STOVE ZOMG! I was traumatized.
I can no longer think mice are cute. ever.
and I am thankful she got a new stove – with a flat top.
Are the mice or are they dancers? That's the real question.
Ugh. I hate rodents in all forms. I would have ran away because it obviously would try to kill me.
If I was there, I would go, "AAUUUUGGGHHHHHFUCKINGFUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK&(%&(*&$%)(#&)%(&*#)(%()&(%#" and then throw a cat at it.
It's so. damn. cute. If you suspect there are others, get one of those humane traps (please!!!) and just release them far away from your house (you know, like in front of a hated neighbors abode).
What's ironic is that Mickey Mouse was actually eaten by cats while in Annapolis on a USO tour in 1942. Which, in some ways, makes this a kind of performance art tribute by you.
Well done.
One year, as we were moving back in to our college dorm room, we unrolled a rug and 5 baby mice ran out. They took off under other people's doors and we had to get someone to unlock the other rooms, catch all of them in a Wal-Mart bag, and then Tim took them out to the field to let them go.
(And I like the Imagination Movers! WAY better than the Wiggles or Barney. Send me that CD. I'll give it all the love and care it truly deserves…)
awww! The cute, fuzzy baby! I'm such a sucker for cute, fuzzy babies!
You are a brave, brave woman. And I am very, very afraid of all small, fuzzy creatures who are not domesticated. Ergo, I would still be standing on top of some un-upholstered piece of furniture waiting on my dad to come save me if I were in your position. I promise.
And Ali just added to my phobia with the stove story. I will now make sure that my un-upholstered piece of furniture is far, far from the stove as well.
Call me if you have a roach problem–I'm your girl.
OMG. SO CUTE. It is too bad mice grow up to be…well, mice because seeing that little one makes me all…OOOH I WANT. How's that for excessive use of caps?
This is almost as cute as that time one of our cats brought a live, wild bird into the house. That was really frickin adorable, especially finding feathers in weird places for like a week afterward.
Laughing so hard cuz I actually like mice – and that one is really cute – and my kids have all had mice, gerbils, hamsters. Yet, when my cat brought a live mouse into the house and dropped it at my feet like a prize…i totally did the same thing "Eek! A mouse!" and an insane dance before catching it in a cool whip container. I guess its just the Human vs. Mouse condition.
For real, it's some serious cuteness. But, only because it was caught at YOUR house.
Yeah, this must be the baby cousin of the ones living in our house that we can't seem to catch. They are on to us, the bastards. I thought I was all good with the snap traps until it caught one on the shoulder. Didn't hurt the mouse, just held it there. So I feel ya on the whole "What the hell do I do know?" thing.
Oh. My god.
Extermination, That's what I say. Because if you see one…
As the "parent" of a mouser kitty who likes to bring me live presents, such as birds and mice, and sometimes eviscerate them before my eyes on my light beige carpet, and other times, just leave them to scurry or flap madly around my living room, I can attest to the power of the folder/bowl technique of removal. Sometimes, a spatula also helps–even when they are alive, and also when they are dead.
It's just about field mice and bunny season at my house, and I am not looking forward to the telling mouth-full miaow at the foot of my bed some coming morning.
Oh dear, well as someone who once freaked out before killing a baby rat in her house (still traumatized) I will have to say that you should have killed it, or at least be glad that it will hopefully soon be no more. Trust me. I had a rodent problem (first mice! then rat(s)!for a long time and they are no fun, and yet the little mofos were too smart for the humane traps.
But jeebus with the cute. But you know, somehow I become a little bit crazed after I see some mice tap dancing across my counter. Uncool. I'm all live and let live, til you're living in my house, eating my food, and pooping on my stove. In fact, I emailed you one crazed email about a year ago about what I thought was a resurgence in our rodent population. (at some ungodly hour) Thankfully having cats in every adjoined house finished them off right quickly.
The humane traps (any hardware store) work great but then you have a mouse in a trap and what to do with it then? I was living in a camper in Gallatin National Forest in Montanta one summer and had my camper invaded by mice. They would fight on the floor of the camper while my dog and I watched from the bunk. After catching one of the damn things, I tried to kill it with carbon manoxide. That's right, I held the trap up to my tailpipe. I only stunned it, making it easier for my dog to slowly kill. So much for humane.
If the mouse did not immediately begin sewing you a ball gown, it should be kitten chow.
Uh.. a word? Mice chew wires. Find the nest.
My cat seemed to know that you just posted this, but…completely off the subject.
I just played your 2008 mix for my beach friends and OH. MY. GOODNESS. The dancing, the happiness!
Thanks for what you did for the mouse and for my beach party.
Love, EB
what is it about these cute little things that give us the creeps so bad? is it the tail? I'm thinking it's the tail. Not sure why, but pretty sure that's it….
mice feet. ew.
OH GOD IT IS CUTE.
Here is a story that may make you feel better. Or worse. Whatever. Here is a story.
Once I stomped off to the shower after a fight with my husband (who was, at the time, my girlfriend, but whatever – give me three drinks at BlogHer and you'll learn more than you ever wanted to know about that confusing sentence). And I didn't look but just turned on the water. And when I pulled back the curtain to get in, there was a tiny little adorable mouse floating around the tub (crappy apartment, bad drainage) on a big sponge. So. Um, yeah, we tried to keep him. We named him Neptune and put him in a makeshift cage for a night. He was dead in the morning. Fright? Poor food choice on our parts? Waterlogged? Who knows? Anyway, it seems that release or capture can have the same, sad end result for ridiculously adorable baby mice. The best bet if you are a baby mouse? DON'T WANDER AWAY FROM MOM.
Oh my God OH MY GOD look at his hands!! I want to kiss his fuzzy head. It'd be worth contracting the plague, or whatever it is they carry.
What in the hell is going on at your house that you have birds up and dying on your porch and mice doing the deed in your basement?
Ace Hardware has every trap known to man! And you can release it back into the wilds…after all it was BORN FREE, AS FREE AS THE GRASS GROWS (HUM TUNE QUIETLY). Was that a Disney Tune????
B
DUDE.
My landlord from the house we just left (whose house was the other half of our duplex) woke up in the middle of the night with a RAT in her bed. I don't even know how you go on living after this kind of thing.
I really don't even know what to say besides DUDE. DUUUUUUDE.
There is a mouse right now as I type on the loose in my house. Probably several, because I'm sure he has a little mouse family. Good thing I'm moving!
It is cute and when it gets just past to its 21 days old birthday the little blighter is all ready to have its own babies!
Three mouse tidbits…
My dad (nickname Big Foot) would have stomped it. I can't stand the crunch. And the screams (me and the baby animals).
My dog, when he finds baby creatures (such as tiny, barely-moving mice) and wants to keep me from stealing them from him, dispenses with chewing and simply grabs them in his front teeth, throws his head back, and swallows.
I am all for humane, but I have to say that in our last apartment the mice chewed through the drywall, plaster and baseboards, laughed at humane traps, glue traps, and good old-fashioned snap traps with peanut butter. We had to resort to poison. The last mouse tried to get too tricky with the leftover peanut butter from a snap trap we hadn't moved, and got just his nose caught (enough to kill him though). He was a very fat mouse from all of his peanut butter meals.
You did admirably in securing the mouse and releasing back to the wild. I'm not sure I could have thought so quick on my feet regardless of cuteness of said rodent. You are to be commended!
P.S. He is sweet!
I am going to choose to believe he has taken p with the baby bird I rescued a few weeks ago. Yup, they're fine, escaped to somewhere that the sun has deigned to shine. Safe, full bellies and happy hearts. La la la la la.