Bobbie arrived in camp yesterday, just in time for rain, wind, clouds, and a bloody escalating war with (insert theater organ music here) MICE. Given the multiple "fronts," I wouldn't be surprised nor blame her if she packed up and headed back to Lovely Ouray's winter storm warnings. Thus, wind and mice wars made for a long, sleep-deprived night, to say the least.
It went something like this:
A quiet lull descended on the "mouse front" this morning, I wouldn't go so far as to call it a "truce," just a pause while the little Commie bastards bring in reinforcements.
|I took "Nome" instead of "Homer" this time around on the Alaska Trail; lots of boulders and teeth-chattering "slick rock," a genuine misnomer in The Klondike.|
All was well in Kamp Klondike until the day after Bobbie left last time around, about nine days ago. She always calls from home to be sure I make it back from the day's adventure intact—so far, so good, knock on wood. One night I mentioned that I had "company."
Needless to say she wasn't thrilled about the mice invasion. But I told her I had it under control with two confirmed "kills" to my credit... thanks to a single mousetrap and Adams Natural Peanut Butter.
Alone and outnumbered, with no "guard" on duty, the mice could wait me out till I fell asleep. That's when they'd launch their Recon Sorties. Far from clandestine, I'd wake up to what sounded like an army scratching around in walls, cupboards... trashcan. I'd sneak out of bed, tiptoe in the darkness, then flip on the light switch. Nothing. All I could do was set the trap and play "Sniper," pick 'em off one by one with my lone "gun."'
|Nome, a red dirt trail through a forest of lovely boulders...|
I swear, it was "Nam" all over again. The enemy used Goldie's vast network of "tunnels" to ambush and retreat, ambush and retreat. I actually felt sorry for the first one I killed, gave him a proper burial and sendoff. But somewhere around 2 AM, amid the din of enemy troops feasting in my trashcan, my heart hardened into stone. The skirmish had escalated. I was under attack, at WAR.
It's like trying to fend off an army of ants with an icepick. There were just too many mice for my "single shot" weapon. I either needed more weapons or I needed to outsmart them. So I left the trash outside, made it easy for them. But that only brought raven reinforcements. Never pick a fight with a raven; they are smarter than us.
|I can see this Bobblehead from camp, so I decided to try and hike to it and get a closer look.|
Now Bobbie sleeps in the overhead bed above the cab, while I sack out in the back. I'm too big to squeeze into that overhead "coffin."
About five minutes after Bobbie's light went out I heard her squeal. The light comes back on. She's under attack. Commie Bastards.
Camper Down! I bail out of bed and charge the "front."
"A mouse just ran across me!"
I retrieved my weapon, hidden on the cab's passenger floor mat. No sense in tipping Bobbie off that there the war had not been won.
The trap had a mouse in it. I flung him out the door as fodder for ravens and reset the trap with an extra dose of peanut butter.
I then disassembled Bobbies entire sleeping quarters, removed everything in order to take away the enemy's hideouts... the foam mattress, keyboard, painting tent, extra blankets, everything. Now they had no place to hide, maybe they'd move downstairs... that's where the food was anyway.
Back to bed
A few minutes later the light comes back on.
"You see something?"
"No, but I can hear them."
Another search turns up nothing.
Back to bed.
And so it goes, every time I'm about to doze off, Bobbie's light comes on. Finally there was a dull thud. The light comes on. I get up. Bobbie thinks something's trying to get in the roof vent or windows... or hiding behind her curtains. She shines the flashlight around until it lands on the mousetrap... on the floor, near the kitchen sink.
Ha, caught another one!
Back to bed.
Ten minutes later, "Pop." Light comes on. I get up.
Caught yet another one.
It is a war of attrition... and patience.
Later. "Thud." Light on. Back out of bed.
Another dead mouse.
Jesus H. Christ, where are they coming from???
Back to bed.
"A dull thud."
Bobbie's light doesn't come on. I don't get up. She must have fallen asleep. It can wait till morning.
"Rattle, rattle, rattle."
"Rattle, Rattle, Rattle."
Light comes on. I get out of bed.
It's after midnight. How do you fight a war without sleep?
They're outsmarting us.
They're going to win.
I looked at the trap. A new mouse straddled his buddy's body, dead in the trap.
A rescue attempt? Damn, they must have feelings... a soul.
Not quite. No, the new mouse was trying to get the rest of the peanut butter his buddy lost his life for!
"You callous little Monster."
I picked up the trap to remove the fallen mouse. About that time the new mouse charges my feet. I jumped and screamed and danced around, so he flees for his life, back into the tunnels. A few seconds later he charges again!
"God Damn you. This little shit wants that peanut butter."
Bobbie's under her covers... one eye on the skirmish, the other looking for what lurks in the dark recesses of her bunk.
I reset the trap, telling Bobbie, "That one's hungry. It won't take long."
Sure enough, five minutes later, "Snap."
Lights on. I get up.
But the solider is not dead. His neck is crushed but he's fighting tooth and nail to get free. How could he be alive? I'm not going to touch that trap till he's dead. So we wait, and wait, and wait... 15 minutes and he's still not dead. It's agonizing, not to mention, cruel. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted.
War is Hell!
I tell Bobbie, "He's not dying."
"What are you going to do?"
"What can I do? Do you want to get him out of the trap while he's fighting for his life? Don't you know the power of adrenalin? He could bite me... or worse, piss on me and infect me with the hantavirus. Jesus."
I try to think of solutions but my mind is in a fog from lack of sleep and war and death in my kitchen. Bobbie threatens to go to Moab and get a room. I remind her that it's Friday and you can't get a room in Moab on Friday!!!!
"Ok." I say, "I'm going to have to drown him."
I grab a plastic wine glass from the cupboard, go into the bathroom and close the door.
As I fill the plastic cup I'm thinking about a book I'm reading, "Unbroken," about how the Japanese tortured our POW's... brutal, shocking, unthinkable acts... waterboarding among the worst.
The glass fills. It's time.
"Sorry, buddy. War sucks."
With that I dip the trap into the water... his head locked down under a spring loaded guillotine, legs still fighting to free himself. His body pulses, trying to breath. His eyes look into mine, then blink. Shit.
30 seconds later.
Is that long enough? Is he dead? I don't want to pull him out if he's not dead.
Another 30 seconds.
Nothing moves under water, but his eyes are still fixed to mine. It's haunting. I don't know if I will be able to sleep. I mean, a trap is one step removed from pulling the trigger. But this was outright execution of a living thing... just trying to eat, live, reproduce as intended. I think about the book, the parallel. Even though my rational mind knows it's not the same, I feel weird... bad... sorry, I don't know, like when George killed poor Lennie in Of Mice and Men.
|A cottonwood, still clinging to life in the face of death|
|A storm front moves in... it's going to rain and blow.|
Coincidentally I am caught in a similar war on the procreation of rodents. It's a nightmare; definitely taking some of the joy out of early spring. I hate taking them out of the trap sooo much that I'm now throwing the whole thing away with my eyes closed. YUCK! Sorry Lenny!ReplyDelete
Sanctum moly. Glad it's not us. However, the story is a hoot.ReplyDelete
Promise!!! I tried my best from laughing !!!! could not help myself!! what a night!! 6 years in my rv - never a rodent! walden creek rvReplyDelete
Yeah but you don't exactly live in the boonies, SteveDelete
Ahh, let me see if I can type this through the tears of laughter running down my face. Buy a product called Cab Fresh Rodent Repellent and put them throughout the storage areas underneath. We used to always have a problem camping down at the river until we started using this. We also use them in all of the farm machinery during the winter months to keep the little varmints from eating all of the wiring and costing us big repair bills.ReplyDelete
One night at the river when Chris was back home farming, I could hear a mouse squealing in one of the sticky traps that we had set in our mouse wars. It was 2 AM and the thing would not die and Chris wasn't there to take it out. I finally dug out a pair of pliers and threw the trap and mouse out the door to deal with the following morning. When I went out the next morning, it was all gone, trap and mouse. I kept looking for some Canadian Goose or pelican walking around with a sticky trap stuck to his nose!
Chris says your attacking mouse was probably the one that was in our jeep dash last summer in Ouray!
If you can't find any Cab Fresh, let us know and we'll mail you some. Fight on!!
Bobby's on it, found it on the Internet, bought two cases 😋Delete
Great info - thanks!Delete
Absolutely beautiful scenery! Oh my! And crazy mice. Hmmmm.ReplyDelete
You sound like me the first month I moved into my current house here in 'the tropics' of Southern Indiana....I too had the enjoyment of drowning them.ReplyDelete
What hell...but a great story! We've been lucky so far...knock wood...ReplyDelete
Sorry so many of us are laughing at your expense:) I would say it is time to move from that location or head into town for a hundred more traps!! On another note...Unbroken is an amazing book!!! Skip the movie. You can't put this book into a movie. It is all about the words.ReplyDelete
Best 'natural' mouse trap we've come across so far is a tall skinny mug (like a Starbucks mug) left out on the counter about half full of hot chocolate mixed with Grand Mariner. We got three in one night(!) while we slept and I'm so glad my GF at the time thought to check before putting the whole affair into the microwave! She was pretty redneck (for a girl) and counted them as they plopped into our RV toilet. Once their little commie feet get wet, they can't climb back up outta' there and they drown -- rather drunk, content and quietly I presume.
Now that's a humane execution, if there is such a thing. 😜Delete
I enjoyed seeing them trying to swim out of the swirling toilet water in my house ... one of those hurray for me and fu... you moments after they were tormenting my house. Now the stray cat that roams the field in back takes care of the mouse issue.Delete
So funny. I agree with Mindy it's time to engage in chemical warfare. To hell with the Geneva Convention.ReplyDelete
Best mouse war story ever!ReplyDelete
I use Cab Fresh and sticky mousetraps baited with peanut butter, place them both strategically in the bays under the bus. Also use foam rubber as a gasket where sewer hose, water hose, power cord, etc exit the bus. Seems to work, haven't had a mouse invasion in a couple years since I started the above regimen. Good luck.ReplyDelete
Why can't they just stay outside where they belong. I've fought this war as well, last summer it was chipmunks. Good luck. More traps.ReplyDelete
You sure you didn't put Goldie atop a huge den? Some smartass mouse must have found out that Goldie housed a lot of food. And you know once they are running an attack they don't stop with eating your food, but also make more tunnels in your RV insulation.ReplyDelete
Best "mouse in the house" story ever!ReplyDelete
We set solar led lights out side the rig, and under the engine in hopes of discouraging the little beasties.
O.K. I have to share my newest mickey-minnie weapon...I was doing service on my F-J40..I use an old anti-freeze container to collect the overflow. It felt heavy..Looked inside..3 of the critters inside...Their souls no longer with us..It seems they liked the sweet killer juice and now they are no longer a bother.ReplyDelete
The opening is so small it's not a threat to the critters we like....
Just a suggestion...