My downstairs neighbour is concerned, as she thinks there’s a mouse. When she is concerned the fallout can spill over. I was once overflowing water past her window, and I knew it was happening but it wasn’t much. I had a plumber booked but had to go out before. It was only for half a day as I had to go do some filming and thought it wouldn’t be necessary to switch the stop cock off. The wind was blowing it into her window and it wasn’t raining to mask it. I had 14 phone calls over about an hour. Her , the caretaker, the management of the block… She went big panic on it.
So I’m making sure I’m showing concern about the mouse in case she assumes it has come down from my flat. It hasn’t come down from mine, but I need to pantomime how much I care about mice so she doesn’t start telling people it has.
Mice don’t last long up here. Either there’s the smell of a snake, there’s a cat, or, worst for them, there’s me. I’m the one who knocks.
I remember twenty years ago when I was squeamish about killing mice. Then I got home after Sprite one year to Nathan in his pants in front of the telly casually saying “Oh and there’s mice.” “For how long?” “Couple of months.” The mice had bred down so many generations while he was in his pants that there were tiny tiny adult mice who were so small they didn’t trigger the traps or were within the trap when they went off so weren’t hit. I had to grow teeth about it. It’ll be one of the things that comes up at The Pearly Gates. I still can’t quite categorise mice like I do clothes moths. But… the mouse apocalypse that I wrought involved a number of horrors for me as well as much worse for the creatures.
Poisoned mice dying unnoticed under soft things I loved. Poisoned mice openly and horribly performative dying on the living room carpet just as I got home from work with friends. Poisoned mice generally doing what they do, which sometimes is to go and let the big scary human creature see there’s a creature in pain just in case something can be done. Then the mutilation… Mice badly caught in traps running round still attached to the wood as they die of shock. Me trying to kill them more quickly for mercy but how? Lining up another trap with their head, pulling open the spring, aiming… I even had to use evil glue traps at the end for the tiny ones as they were immune to the poison and wouldn’t get the snaptraps. Glue is foul as then what do you do with the creature that is very aware that you are there and is hurting itself trying to escape from you? I dropped a huge chunk of masonry on one from some local roadworks and it screamed at me as I did it. It knew exactly what was going on. I left it attached to the underside of a paving stone. Likely it was laid down the next morning and someone swore at me. “What the fuck is this, a dead mouse stuck with a glue trap? Oh you nasty bastard. And now we have to lay this stone… Harrie, can you get this one, I feel a bit sick?”
So … I don’t want mice up here again as I am looking towards my Buddhism which is stronger now than it was then. I know I’ll utterly destroy them if they come. I don’t want to have to. Humane traps? Maybe now there’s the solution. Back then I couldn’t pay the extra. Plus most of the ones I’ve seen (and yes tried) don’t work.
This evening we had huge spring asparagus and tatties as I’ve been feeling bad about all the meat I’ve had lately. I don’t like the prospect of having to be death to loads of small mammals… It’ll never escalate again like it did, because literally what the fuck, Nathan? But we were kids. One or two I can deal with. I think I once wrote about the one I caught by the tail with my own hands. Hadn’t thought it through. Had to carry it down three flights of stairs as it expelled everything and tried to bite me / it’s own tail off. I took it across the zebra crossing, in mild shock, noticing the people in the cars clock what I was carrying. I threw it into the river, which just happened to be full flood. My imagination had told me the tide would be out and I’d be making a happy little river mouse. But no. And I still threw it in. And I watched it drown. And it takes longer than you think. And that’s on my karmic record.
insha’Allah.
Nam myo ho renge kyo
Amen
Oops
AlBarclay 