Get out of my house, you miserable meeces!

That’s right, little meeces. There’s a new Mr. Jinks in town.

For those of your who are unfamiliar with Hanna-Barbera cartoons from the olden golden age, here’s who I’m talking about:

Now in case you’re wondering about what all this is about and you hadn’t checked out my last post My day in Cartoon Motion, here’s a brief recap:

Needless to say, the mystery of the hole in my whole wheat peanut butter sandwich was solved the next day when I almost dropped my coffee pot on seeing a small black mouse running around trying to find more peanut butter…or whole wheat bread, whichever tickled his rodentous fancy. Rodentous, derived from the word ‘rodent’ is clearly not a real word….until 2 seconds ago.

Since then, I have quite literally been on a mouse hunt…while trying to stay outside of a 5 feet radius of my kitchen and the peanut butter jar. The little high frequency device that was supposedly supposed to drive mice away has been driving me crazy but clearly is like crappy but tolerable music to Little Dex. (Jerry, Pixie and Dixie were all taken)

So off I went to Canadian Tire to find some quick solutions to this rodentous problem. I stood before Aisle 40, also known as Project Dexter and Posse, and grabbed enough mouse-ridding devices to make the Pied Piper roll over in his grave. There were sticky traps, an assortment of open traps, mouse cookies, which were quite literally to die for and of course the main device: peanut butter.

I unwrapped all my new purchases and applied peanut butter to everything hoping to catch the little sucker. Dex, you’re a ridiculously revolting albeit cute little guy but you eat my breakfast, you die…or least be trapped in a box while I debate whether or not I throw you in the garbage or release you in your natural habitat: the Toronto subway tracks.  

So I laid my traps in all the strategic places, turned off the lights and went to bed with one eye open. There was so much peanut butter in the open. Dex would be a gonner by morning. But I couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. Every slight scrapping noise woke me up. Every little rustle made me think of Dex struggling in a pasty sea of peanut butter. What a way to go.

And then I heard it. Rustles and squeaks in my ceiling. Dex had brought his entire family and they were partying up in my ceiling. Oh sweet baby Jesus! Now I was never going to fall asleep. My over-active 3am brain imagined a thousand meeces running all over my ceiling and my ceiling falling down with the weight of their good times. Clearly, at the time the thought of my ceiling falling down on me seemed entirely possible and the mental image of being covered in meeces and pieces of ceiling gave me a painful urge to pee.

 But I was frozen. I couldn’t move or sleep. All I could do was listen to their rustles and squeaks and hold in my pee. Needless to say, it was a night ill-spent. I woke up only to find all my traps empty. Either Dex had fled the scene of my horrendous Mr. Jinks-esque atrocities or had a peanut allergy and actually just wanted whole wheat bread.

Either way, I know Dex is on the loose playing this cat and mouse game with me. Typical male behaviour. But I’m three steps ahead of him. My landlords will hopefully have an exterminator during the week and once and for all evict this unwelcome troop of breakfast-eaters. After all, I’m pretty sure even dumb old Mr. Jinks would have done this after being outsmarted by some miserable meeces. Or maybe not.

I’m curious to know if any of you ever had a mouse problem and if you did, how did you deal with it? I’d definitely prefer to do this without those traps that snap on its victims and sputter their blood all over the floor though. I really don’t like cleaning up.

MEECE UPDATE***- The vast amounts of peanut butter strategically placed around my kitchen obvisouly got the better of Little Dex. However, I have severly underestimated this evil rodent. After having checked all my traps, I found that Dexter had cleverly eaten all the peanut butter from the traps without being stuck or trapped. He also thought it would be the polite thing to do by shitting all over them as a thank you for feeding him. The little f**ker is going to pay.

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26 thoughts on “Get out of my house, you miserable meeces!

  1. Meeces and I have a lot in common. We both love peanut butter! 🙂 I’m no pest disposal expert, but peanut butter may be your answer!

    Good luck with your moose loose aboot your hoose 🙂

  2. Every fall the field mice start looking for warm houses to invade. Nothing like every drawer in the kitchen becoming the litter box for some mouse. I found the high frequency things only work near the entry point; otherwise they just cause the mice to go into another room. The sticky traps work best because the mouse can not steal the bait as they do in the spring traps (not sure how they do it, must be one of their courses in mouse school). Unfortunately, I hate to find a scared to death, but not dead, mouse on the sticky strip; I do not let the thing suffer, so I hold the strip and mouse under water. I also use the enclosed spring traps (no mess). I use the spring traps as a secondary in consort with the sticky strips; and leave them both down all the time (every once in a while some mouse wants to take summer vacation in my house). I had a cat, but she seemed to be like Garfield and made friends with the mice.

    • The sticky traps apparently have been completely useless. I wouldnt even want to touch a trap if there`s a mouse in it, let alone rescue him with water. I truly believe there is a mouse school now. And whenever school work is crazy and they need to party hardy they all come over to my ceiling.

  3. My dad preferred seriously nasty poisoned bait and snap traps that I had to empty as mum was terrified of mice alive or dead!

    The lethal grain desiccated the little mouse corpses and was highly illegal, but dad never did care much about the law…

    Love and hugs!

    Prenin.

  4. Back in TO I had a live trap, I caught it and took it down to the park and let it go. But here I have rats in my garden and they shit in this cabana/room that is in my garden. I have tried the live trap but it doesn’t work, and I have poison but I am too scared that I may have the responsibility to subsequently throw dead things away. That is what I need a man for! But I have to buck up. Good for you… you’re hard core!

    • I put live traps now and still nothing. This is bionic mouse. Either he`s super strong or super smart. Either way, he`s still in my kitchen and I`m avoiding it like the plague…which is actually true for once. I feel the same about using posion but my boss was telling me that you get a new kind of poison in the market that make their bodies disintergrate and you dont have to deal with disposing anything.

      I want me some of that. I may be hardcore, but clearly Dex is worse.

  5. Flooding in my neighborhood encouraged a mouse to move into my apartment one year. The apartment was above the waterline. I tried a few different traps as well as trying to catch the mouse myself. I was never fast enough. If you can get a five year old kid to help you, I can’t recommend it enough. Young children are fast little boogers! My son ended up being my mouse-catcher. Not that I asked for his help. I didn’t. But he had observed me with my anti-mouse mania over several days.

    So one evening he came dashing up stairs yelling at the top of his lungs, “Mama mama mama mouse mama mouse mama mama mouse!” He was so excited those were the only two words he could say. I allowed him to pull me down the stairs and there, in the middle of my kitchen floor was the mouse. A foot or so away was one of my shoes. I asked him what he did, and apparently, he flattened the poor rodent with my shoe. That’s what I did to spiders and bugs, apparently, he figured the same method could be used for all pests.

    I was rather grossed out by the fact he used my shoe to squash the mouse, and I tossed the little mouse body in the trash can to dump out in the dumpster. Imagine my surprise when I discover that he did not KILL the mouse, only stunned him. The mouse woke up and tried to climb out of the trash can. So I did dump him in the apartment complex’s dumpster. I’m assuming he decided he had died and gone to mouse food heaven. Or he got squashed by the garbage truck. Either way, he wasn’t a problem anymore because he never came back.

    • hahaha your story actually made me laugh. I was going to ask you if I could borrow you awesomly fearless son for a week. I can`t believe that mouse was just `stunned`. what the hell! What do you have to do to kill these bastards :/ I don`t necessarily want to kill this mouse on my watch. I just want him out of the house. And if he dies later due to my disposal tactics then meh…such is life.

      • My lightning-fast five year-old is now slower than a glacier as an almost-nineteen year-old. It takes him over an hour to do a sink full of dishes. ‘Course, he can be persuaded to put on some speed if it’s something HE wants to do. I don’t think smooshing meece would be on that list. He’s turned into a big ol’ softie when it comes to animals. He’s super sweet with them, actually. I could totally see him as a vet!

        But no, he’s all grown up and pursuing welding training. Go figure.

  6. Funny post!

    I had a moonlighter mouse once. I knew because little black pellets would turn up all over my house whenever I slept. Shudder.

    I find traps a loose/loose situation. Mouse dies/you have to clean dead mouse. I moved instead.

    • Thank you! 🙂 Yes, all those things are lose lose situations.

      We finally called the exterminator. They set up poison traps everywhere but its a kind of poison where they eat that stuff and their bodies shrivel into ashes of unrecognisable nothingness. So I wont have to actually deal with dead mouse bodies. Moving unfortunately for me is not an option right now.:(

      • ‘Like’ to that solution.

        Clearly I didn’t have enough coffee this morning. I wonder what a ‘Loose/Loose” situation would entail… I think it would definitely involve getting ridiculously drunk.

  7. I had a mouse invader of my own a couple of months ago… to my horror, I discovered that Mickey decided to use my closet as his vacation home. My dog and I heard rustling a few nights in a row and remained frozen on my bed for hours, it turns out neither one of us was any good at chasing, finding or eliminating them.

    I used covered traps, because regular traps and sticky traps would mean risking injury to a certain, curious little Boston Terrier. I loaded them with premium peanut butter, and never did anything except fatten Mickey up. Finally, I tried peppermint oil (pure peppermint oil, not extract) all over the house – applied on cotton pads and special sachet things meant to help keep the oil scent fresh in the air. It worked! I never heard or saw Mickey ever again – and it’s been at least 6 weeks.

    Okay, this is where I have to confess that I used about 10 times the amount the instructions recommended (what do they know?). My house smelled like Christmas on steroids – and if felt like I got punched in the face with a candy cane every time I walked into the place, but it was a small price to pay for a rodent free home. The smell faded after a few days of airing out, but remains strong enough to keep the little effers away. I just replenish the pads and sachets every few weeks with about 6 drops. Ta-da!

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