My traps are set under the kitchen sink, and have been useless for a day and a half. But one dumb mouse exposed himself in the kitchen and ran for it. Mac, the Westie, was on patrol, saw his opportunity and attacked!
Mac now has a dead mouse to his credit! Syniel and I are both quite proud of him, and he is doing a pretty good terrier imitation of a John Wayne "Aw, shucks. It was nothing special." His pride is obvious, however, in the wag of the tail, the joy in his eyes and the strut of his walk. He knows he did good.
The cat slept through the whole thing. I blame her mother for not teaching her to "mouse." But it IS the middle of the day, and she normally does night patrol. And the sweet brown sheltie mix, Foxie, simply has no clue why we are all fussing over Mac "the Mouser." Or the mouse, for that matter. She is a herding dog, of course. But right now the household needs mousers.
Unfortunately our Intelligence service does not have a "fix" on the size of the invading enemy mouse horde. We've hurt them, but how many more are there? We have no active spies, and none likely. I don't think there is any hope of infiltrating spies into the leadership of the mouse horde. We have no one available of appropriate size with adequate mouse language skills. So I guess we have to continue with Westie patrols in the day, cat patrols at night and traps in concealed locations that our patrols can't reach.
Thus the war continues, with no idea for how long. We will not cut and run. We are in this for the long term -- and the mice? They have ignored all opportunities to negotiate. I fear this is a war of extermination. There will be no peace in this house until the invaders are repelled or destroyed.
But as of today, Mac gets his "Mouser First Class" award! He is the house hero today!
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