Mice, Not Mickey...or...D-Con Danger

Since our house was built in what used to be a cornfield, it makes some sense that every summer we get a little visit from some furry friends. Now the first year, they left willingly. I moved the nest, and they didn't come back. Last year was more involved. I stumbled upon newborn (I mean so newly born they looked like worms) mice. I couldn't bring myself to move them (and there by sentence them to death by neglect), but luckily my dad was coming down later in the week. I made him move it to a very safe space somewhere far away where I'm sure they lived happy mouse-lives until the end of their days. Despite being a traumatic experience, they mice left after we moved the babies and we had no more signs.

Until this year that is. For several weeks we've seen them run through the lawn while mowing. I'll admit. I ignored them for a while hoping they'd go away, but they didn't. So I set out to search the vast internet for humane ways of getting mice to leave. (I did not want to face the idea of picking dead mice up out of our lawn.) To my surprise, I found a vast array of products from 'sonic blasters' to stuffed owls to Predator Pee (yes, folks that's a brand name). Intrigued at the idea of covering my problem areas with bobcat urine, I ordered Shake Away Critter Repellent. I arrived in a discreet brown box and I shook, and I waited, and I shook again, and I waited. And, you guessed it - shocker - mice really aren't all that afraid of pee when they are already comfy living in your yard.

So we set out to find the main nest and resort to more deadly methods. I had been dismantling our rotting woodpile for a few weeks, and Suellen's brother Stu is in town so he helped me moved the rest of it today. I was sure we'd find them there. No luck. So Stu and I (well pretty much just Stu) lifted and moved our "patio" (by patio, I really mean the 3x3 ft concrete square outside our back down since we had to spend a bunch of money on cat surgery - see below - and couldn't afford to put in a patio this summer). Guess what. Mouse central. And they have probably already burrowed under the slab for our house. So Stu and I traveled to the local hardware store to seek defensive measures.

I should note here that I am a very paranoid person. If there is something to worry about - tornados, avian flu, bankrupcy - I'll generally worry about it. This partly why I didn't want to use mice poison in the first place. I'm afraid that our cats will escape and it eat. Or our neighbors' dogs THAT ARE CONSTANTLY IN OUR YARD (no anger there) will eat it. Or the kids next door will eat it. Or the baby birds on our porch will eat it. Or I'll accidentally get it on my hand and eat it. And then we'll all die. But I can't take the mice anymore. And I know I won't be able to take it if they decide to try and come in for the winter. So, Stu did the manly duty of placing mouse bait in the proper places, and now I'm waiting for D-Con to politely persuade my furry friends to live elsewhere.

Until then, it's just wait and worry.