Tag Archives: dead mouse

Oh, Yetch!

23 Aug

Last night, I slipped my feet into my boots so I could go feed the fish.

And felt something soft and tender.

Eddie, bless his little black heart, had left a newly dead mouse in my right boot. That or the poor thing had escaped Eddie’s tender ministrations by crawling into the boot to hide. Probably the latter, as I couldn’t find any wounds on it other than a bite in the vicinity of the right shoulder blade. I held it for a moment, and it was still vaguely warm, but definitely dead. Poor baby. I think the thing that disturbs me most about mice and deer is that they don’t close their eyes when they die. They continue to look at you beseechingly.

I threw him into the back forty for the foxes to eat. So much for empathy.

In the future I will shake out my boots before I put them on. No telling what else the dear boy may drag home.


8 Apr

We have been looking for that blasted dead mouse for about a week now, without much luck. We gave the TV room side a good going-over a couple of days ago. That side has what I would have considered the most likely spots – plenty of tubs of costumes, which have now been moved to the attic, thank you very much – but no luck.

The Squire insisted the smell was much stronger near the sewing machine. I tilted it back and even looked up inside it, but no go. We pulled everything out from under the bed – two large flat boxes, which hold patterns and fabric for Colonial outfits, plus oodles of tissue paper – and still didn’t find anything. We even looked under the mattress and between the mattress and the box spring. Finally, we pulled the head of the bed away from the wall, but we still didn’t see any moldering bodiesĀ on the carpet.

Just as we were pushing the bed back, a flicker of movement caught my eye, as the mouse fell from the edge of the bedframe onto the floor. It had climbed up off the floor, I suppose, to avoid Sir Edmund’s attention and died, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

He was tenderly wrapped in a tissue paper shroud and buried with great ceremony in the trashcan outside.

The song is ended, but the melody lingers on. Phew! Quick, Henry! The Lysol!

Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road

23 Mar

Or, worse, yet, a dead mouse someplace in the guest/sewing room.

He wasn’t there last night while I was working, but, boy, howdy! is he there today. About knock you over, and of course there are a gazillion places he could be.

The Squire and I did a bit of searching today, but we both had several other things we needed to do – fortunately out of the house – so tomorrow we will tear the place apart. Most of my costumes are in tubs with tight-fitting lids, but there are still oodles of disgusting places the rotten critter could have crawled into.

Wish us luck.