There is a mouse in the house. There may even be a couple. He's a tiny field mouse; in fact he is probably smaller than the tarantulas in our yard. Why the tarantulas in our yard have not yet eaten the mice is beyond me - it would be nice if the circle of life kind of solved this problem for us (and the snake would then eat the tarantula, of course).
I run a pretty tight ship when it comes to food storage, so I suppose it is successfully feeding on Landon's crumbs these days; he is becoming more insistent on feeding himself and it is a splatterfest three times a day.
First time the mousey mouse was too quick and got away despite my pursuit to eradicate him from the pantry at an ungodly 4am hour. My bait boxes haven't been working, either. So tonight I am stepping it up a notch with some new traps and some peanut butter. I had to ponder whether they would prefer creamy or crunchy and I went with crunchy because it's the best. Yumm-o!
"Get out of my house, mouse. I can't sleep soundly until you do. Thank you! All my love (but not really), your friend Kate."
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