an ounce can feel like a pound when it unexpectedly lands on your big toe in the form of a mouse dive bombing out of the bathroom cabinet.
eyes closed, i was washing my face when the incident occurred. i screamed. ivan came running into the bathroom and the mouse froze. he just sat in the corner and stared at us – he wasn’t even trying to hide. my bathroom is so small I have to have the door open to dry myself off after a shower, and here i am in the bathroom with a 70 pound dog and a one ounce mouse! he’s been hanging around for over a month now and he’s getting very comfortable. he thinks he lives here. just the other day i as i sat in the livingroom preparing to meditate he came out to play. i watched him play right out in the open for 15 minutes or so. he has no fear. he walks around like he owns the place and looks me square in the eye. several times i have seen him walk right by ivan – within 3 inches of his face! ivan just turns to me with a look like “did you just see that?” lucky for this one inch long baby mouse, he’s the cutest thing i ever saw. his looks have spared him his life. if i could only potty train him, i would let him stay.
i watch him climb up the electric cord that runs from behind the television to the outside through the window. i keep the window and door open all day, therefore he is free to come and go as he pleases – but i have seen him come right in through the back door when it was closed. he is so small he can fit through the crack between the bottom of the door and the saddle. i’ve tried shoo-ing him out using the swiffer, yelling at him and chasing him with the vacuum. i’ve even threatened him with glue traps – but he must sense that i’m not really going to kill him. i can’t keep him out.
i found some organic repellent online several days ago and i hope it will arrive in today’s mail. it apparently has a woodsy scent that alerts mice to fox – their natural enemy. i hope it works. if he attacks me again, or invites any friends over, i’m going for the glue traps.
The lust for comfort, that stealthy thing that enters the house a guest and then becomes a host, and then a master”
– Khalil Gibran