We’ve known that we have a mouse problem for a bit. We had a cold, snowy winter here in Michigan and our place looks out over an old farm field. We also fixed our storage shed last fall and filled in all the holes, so it stands to reason why they came in.
For most of the winter, we’ve only heard them… no signs of gnawing or mouse droppings anywhere. I set a few traps, which never caught anything.
For Easter and for general “give me crunchy/salty/sweet/chocolate and no one has to die” purposes we baked cookies and had to use a couple slices of fresh bread to soften our brown sugar. We never generate too much trash, so our kitchen waste basket has been empty for the most part. The only thing in it were the two (now stale) pieces of bread.
Bedtime comes and we head to bed like we normally do.
To cut to the chase: A mouse got into the kitchen trash can. Which is something I’d find out only after I peeled myself off the ceiling. But could Kaze tell me in a civilized way?
Without warning, there comes the most unholy racket from the kitchen, ending with the crash of a 20 lbs feline missile impacting the base cabinets.
And without any other assistance, I think I came awful close to kissing my bedroom ceiling.
The joys of pet ownership. 