On the weekends I enjoy just tuning off the humidifier and relishing the silence of the house before our day begins.
There. If you don’t sneeze you can hear the pitter-patter of little feet.
Not kidlet feet. At 26 weeks it’s still chilling in my belly.
It’s not little cat feet either. Harley is on my lap and I can see Antigone curled up on the couch in the front room.
There’s a scuttling in the ceiling above our dining room and I am pretty confident at this point that we have a bit of a rodent problem.
We have not spotted any signs of droppings and there are no visible holes in the walls (minus the gappy floorboard vent in the upstairs hallway and the hole in the kitchen ceiling). But we did find two dead mice when we moved in and there were mouse traps in the garage.
Maybe this is the third blind mouse?
Maybe it’s like the corrupted toys from “Toy Story,” like the Erector Set spider baby which then makes me think of Jonathan Coulton’s song “Creepy Doll.”
At this point though, we suspect that the sound is coming from the floor joists, between the second and first floors, where the bees had their hive over the summer. It is possible that whatever residue is leftover is sustaining the skittery critter.
And it needs to die.
I usually don’t feel that violent toward small creatures. Cockroaches, yes. But not fuzzy things. However, with April just a few months away, I don’t feel as though we have time to coax the little furball out from our floors. Listen, Jade House, we have other things that need to get done.
Monday or Tuesday someone is coming and they will fix this problem. We looked on Angie’s List and contacted a few pest removal outfits. Only one has returned our request … which is a problem I have found with Angie’s List that I find somewhat frustrating. There are only two major problems with this whole scenario.
- If it not a mouse or rat, they don’t have the certifications to deal with anything bigger (like a squirrel).
- It’s in the freaking floor boards.
I guess this is what we get for living in a neighborhood that prior to 1969 really was just farmland. The ecosystem really doesn’t care that we’re trying to build a life here and that we have two cats who should be perfectly capable of handling mouse-shaped noms. They certainly take care of all of the spiders in Ravenholm for us.
We’re laying down baseboards in the kidlet’s room this weekend and maybe we’ll also excavate the library and just verify that there aren’t any obvious signs of rodent habitation. You know, just in case there is a creepy doll hiding up there or something.