Of Mouse and Man

I try to stay away from the "blog as diary" approach as much as possible. Nobody really cares what I had for supper last night or how my boys did in their football playoff games (roast squab, lost, and lost). Every once in a while I feel that one of my life events bears recounting and in this case I'll tell the following story as a means of coming clean and confessing my sins against nature hoping against hope that in time you'll all be able to forgive me.
With October comes the cold weather and with the cold weather there usually comes a mouse or two seeking food and shelter. Last year the mouse insurgency was a startling success with raid after raid and not one kill. The traps I'd purchased were inferior and I'd routinely check in the morning only to find them unsprung but with the tasty morsel of cheddar or dab of peanut butter nowhere to be found! After a while I gave up and the mice moved on.
This year, like clockwork, I was awoken one night by sounds of scurrying in the pots and pans section of my cupboards. Twice now I've seen the offending rodent, no bigger than a ping pong ball, flit across the kitchen floor while I was talking on the phone and the droppings...Oy!!!....droppings everywhere!!
Two days ago I decided to put an end to this nonsense and ponied up the extra dollar for the proverbial "better mouse trap" pictured here.
The trigger mechanism sits ever so precariously in the yellow tray and even a mouse with the deftest touch has no chance. For some reason I thought that no bait was needed (I think I mis-read the display at the hardware store) and even convinced myself that the tray smelled a bit like cheese....looking back I now realize that it smells like plastic. Needless to say, night one was a dismal failure. Yesterday I left my house at 1:30 but before doing so I reset the trap and added a strategically placed slug of peanut butter. Surely this would do the trick.
In the past, my succesful attempts have been announced by a loud SMACK as the device crashes down at lightning speed onto the neck of the unsuspecting rodent. Five seconds or so of struggle and it's over...violent but as humane as I'm prepared to go (YOU live trap!!) I figure as long as it's a quick death the mouse, who is after all invading my house, stealing my food, and shitting on my cutlery, is getting what he deserves.
I arrived to a darkened house at 11 p.m. hoping and half expecting to be rid of the pest. Entering the kitchen I could make out vague shapes and forms barely illuminated by ambient light from another room. What looked like the outline of a mouse in a trap lay before me but it couldn't be.....it was ten feet away from where I'd placed it!! I quickly flicked on the lights with a sense of anticipation and dread and was greeted with a sight so tragic, so pathetic, that I'm sure it will haunt me till the day I die. The mouse had sprung the trap all right and almost managed to jump clear from the spring loaded arm......almost. His left foot didn't make it and what was now a tiny, bloody, and mangled stump was pinning him to the trap which in his panic he'd dragged all the way across the kitchen to where he now rested...alive!!!
Exhausted as I was having come from 2 rehearsals and a couple of hours of moving instruments I was not ready to deal with this situation in any cogent, heroic, or humane way. Not knowing how much fight the mouse had left in him I donned an oven mitt, gingerly grabbed the trap and threw it and the mouse into my bushes. He died during the night as I slept the fitful sleep of the guilt ridden. For those of you who care about such things I apologize deeply and sincerely. For those of you who don't I wonder if there's anything good on TV tonight.