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Man vs. Beast: The Final Chapter

21 August 2007

Get back into my apt, and am making coffee for the a.m. (is caffeine bad for runners I wonder??) and notice the mousetrap behind the cookbooks is gone. “I smell trouble…” I say, “Or if I don’t, I will very soon!” thinking myself clever…go to the car for my flashlight and search all around the fridge and can’t find him “crafty little effer” I say…afraid now that I’m going to find the mouse in some unexpected place in the apartment. Go to grab a glass of water, look down in the sink, and there’s BIG mouse eyes staring at me.

He’s alive!! His arm is caught in the trap! He’s so tiny and cute! I immediately go into girl-mode “oh no!!!!! oh nooooo!” high pitched, squealy, half-laughing, half about to cry…and I think Forget this! I can’t do this on my own. Empowered and independent my ass! I wasn’t bargaining on him having a tiny broken little arm, when we’ve been through so much, and all he wanted to do was eat my Snickers, all industrious enough to escape from my humane trap, and even the not-humane one…almost.

So I do what any other independent woman would in my situation: call a boy. A boy I knew would be awake, and whose job it is to come to the rescue of many ridiculous situations like this one. I knew Kevin would be awake because of practice…so I call, still in hysterics.
He: “This is Kzim…”
Me: “(insert much high pitched freaking out here)”

So he comes over to help, screw driver in hand. Assesses the situation: his arm is broken, so we have a couple options…then he mimes what I will call bonking on the head. (LITTLE BUNNY FOO FOO! GOD!!!!!) And I’m like “okay…Are you okay with that?!” a little sorry that I’ve turned my co-worker into a murderer before noon on a Tuesday. He grabs the trap like it ain’t no thing, mouse hanging off, I unlock the door and let him out, “do you want the trap back?” NO! oh god. And I realize now my little mouse friend didn’t make a sound. He knew it was the end…and had pooped all up in my sink.

Oh his little tiny huge eyes. He was so tiny and cute! Seriously, like a little mouse baby. Like a mouse greeting card where he’s been photoshopped to look more friggen cute than God intended. Like Bambi’s little mouse friend who just wants to sing songs about springtime cute. Man!

So I hear a loud banging, and see Kevin carrying dead mouse by the tail, looking less cute and more like a dead rodent, and into the dumpster, and off to “hampster heaven” as he put it.

All I can say is, “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t in your job description…” oh man. What a way to start the day.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Whit permalink
    9 October 2007 3:03 pm

    Hi-larious. You have more entertaining creature issues than anyone I know!

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