Dealing With a Mouse in the House


Here’s a sample of a short chapter from my book, My Precious Life, published in 2014. It’s about a pesky mouse who wouldn’t be caught dead in a mouse trap.

A MOUSE IN THE HOUSE

We have a mouse in the house.

I call him Mercury because he is as elusive as the substance in a pre-digital thermometer. Have you ever broken a mercury thermometer and tried to clean up the spill? It’s tricky.

And I truly believe the little beastie has been to mouse school. He knows every trap in the book and every food in the trap.

At breakfast I put a bit of peanut butter in the trap. It’s still there at lunch time. I replace it with a piece of cheddar cheese.

Meat loaf is his choice for dinner. None of these foods whets his appetite and I wonder what he is living on. When I’m engrossed in writing my “best seller” I catch a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. Merc runs down the hall, stops at my door, gives me the beady eye and keeps on going.

My chair hits the floor with a mighty thud as I clumsily jump up in pursuit. But he has disappeared from sight.

Watching the late night news in bed I hear a scratching sound coming from one of the drawers in my dresser. I turn down the T.V. volume to make sure the noise isn’t part of the program.

Nope, it’s coming from the top left drawer. I slowly pull it open and there’s Mercury sitting among my tee shirts. I swear he winked at me. I have to think of a way to catch him.

I grab a beach towel from the linen closet, throw it over clothes and mouse, scoop everything up and run for the door. Mercury jumps out of the bundle, scurries across the floor and disappears once more.

This has been going on for months. He is simply uncatchable.

We’re having a party on Saturday night.

I don’t know whether to warn everyone of the mouse in the house or just let them find out for themselves.

I’m sure Mercury will love the chocolate cake and ice cream. It won’t be set in a trap and he is such a people creature he is bound to be the life of the party.

I can just see the ladies scrambling for chairs to stand on, and the age old question, “Are you a man or a mouse?” being answered once and for all as the gents dash for the nearest exit.

Tomorrow: When God Wants Your Attention

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