No, Not Mickey

This morning we found a little mouse in our kitchen. Always un-nerving, but also unusual as we have a cat. Judging from Guy's prowess at catching crickets and other creep-crawlies, a mouse would be no match for him.

The poor little mouse was stumbling around and bleeding from his lower orifice. As we watched him die, we speculated that our neighbors must have set out a poisonous trap.

Frankly, this really upset me.

Rat poison is inhumane, especially as catch-and-release traps work fine. Setting out poison is also incredibly stupid as the animals have time to run and hide in the walls where they die (and decay) out of reach. We're lucky that we found this little one in our kitchen, but who knows how many others there are. I also worry what might happen if Guy were to catch a mouse dying from poison.

So, I might have to send B- knocking on doors to beg our neighbors to put away their poison. Since all four of the other tenants are girls and he's a guy with a charming Aussie accent, I think he makes for a better messenger.