Are mice cute? Is it charming that they live under your fridge or in your oven? Do you imagine little beds made out matchboxes? Spent spools as furniture? Do you think of the one in the chef's hat? Or the one with the big ears that sounds like michael j. fox? Allow me to propose a few simple exercises to disabuse you of this notion. First, pull out your fridge. My fridge? you say. But that's...it's a fridge. Trust me, it got into your home somehow. You can do it. I'll wait. Yeah, how about that. Pretty disgusting. Mice and rats literally cannot control their bodily functions. And yet, you've probably never seen an episode of Tom and Jerry with the little guy on the run, grunting out tiny raisins as he ran across the Thanksgiving table. Nonstop pissing and shitting. That's how that pile behind your fridge got there. Nonstop. They do not "hold it" while they delicately nibble on your dinner dishes. Or your sponges, pots, pans, utensils. While your in the kitchen and feeling chuffed at having moved a large appliance for the first time, get some help and slide out your stove. Make sure the gas is turned off and don't break the line. I'll wait. Even worse, right? If you're tempted to see the excrement as quaint, take a knee and have a wiff. Yup, that's still shit and piss, even if its adorably dainty.
First order of business, clean it up. You have to, because you're not a savage. Now, how do you get rid of them? You don't. Even the most conservative estimates say that there's at least one mouse or rat for each of us. the good news is, you only have to be cleaner than your neighbors. think of it like an arms race, only with bleach. They will always be in your building, you just have to make sure that your apartment is the last option when its time to eat. Like Hardee's. "Let's go to 4b." "Hell, no. I'm sick of eating carbonized pasta sauce off the burners." "Well, where then?" "Dude, 3b. It's just through the ceiling." "Oh yeah?" "Mos def. They just throw their dishes in the sink. They don't even scrape them." "serious?" "I'm telling you, man. Like we can't just climb in and out off the same fucking dishes." "Lead the way. And, dude, you've got some shit hanging off your tail." "Leave off, you've dropped like, 5 turds while we're deciding."
For added measure, leave out some traps. I couldn't, you say. Why? Because they're precious? Remember; nonstop shitting. And pissing. On your utensils. But I just caaan't. You can and you must. You live in the city. Based on this conversation, you're probably some kind of hippy as well. Abandon your irrational fidelity to them based, presumably on some feeling of kinship on account of the mammal thing. This is your chance to go hunting. Well, trapping anyway. which is kind of like hunting, only for smart people. There's nothing smart about trapping innocent creatures, you say. Well then set some out and see how you do. There's a science. Whatever modicum of intelligence they may possess, a large portion of it is dedicated to not dying. There is nothing more satisfying than waking up and finding several dead mice in your traps. It's primal. We've been doing it for 4000 years. And while you can't make a coat, trade for tobacco or blankets, or clothe your children with your catch, you'll definitely be able to entertain guests without having to make excuses when they go to set the table with silverware when you're not looking.
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