As featured Saturday, October 27, 2012, at www.cnjonline.com
It lasted three whole days.
Three days of overturned spice bottles rolling on the counters and scrambling noises when the kitchen lights were flipped on.
Human error started it of course, an error that led to the cage being left open.
The first sighting was quite the surprise.
Not
so much a surprise in the fact it's not unusual to spot the occasional
mouse, but more in the sense that they usually don't have black and
white spots.
Nor is the average mouse 5 inches tall when it stands on its hind legs.
As
a result, the first sighting unfolded in split-second stages that went
something like: What the heck was that...? Where the heck did a rat come
from...? Why is the rat's cage empty?
The realization struck
about the same time the rat realized she'd been spotted and off she
went, finding a hiding place under the kitchen sink, thanks to a door
that had been left slightly open.
It seemed a perfect opportunity
to corner her, or at least it should have been a perfect opportunity,
had it not been for a hole in the drywall, irregularly cut around a
pipe.
It's a never ending source of amazement to see how easily a
chased animal can contort itself to avoid capture, especially rodents,
which appear to turn into propelled amoebas that can squish through the
tiniest crevice.
Forcing her broad belly through the hole that was
no larger than her head, that's exactly what she did, and in so doing,
claimed the wall as her new home.
By no stretch of the imagination
was she the first caged pet in the household to go on the lam, but she
was the first to take up residence in the kitchen and in so doing,
presented quite the conundrum.
She was far too large for a humane
mouse trap, using a traditional mouse trap was out of the question for a
pet, and for much the same reasons, the poison and a cat options had to
be scratched off the list.
Coaxing seemed to be the only next logical step.
Wiggling
a pizza crust in front of the opening to her new house, it was only a
second before she took the bait and sunk her teeth in.
Time after
time, she reached out; stole a mouthful, then withdrew, holding her
position while triumphantly feasting on pizza crust.
Partly out of
frustration, part out of fear that she would gorge herself and grow too
large to escape the hole, I squeezed my hand in after her, only to
quickly withdraw it in a slurry of not-so-nice words when she made the
honest mistake that we had moved from light refreshments to finger
foods.
Finger bandaged, tactics reassessed, the next two days consisted of make-shift traps.
A
bucket with scattered snacks on the bottom which she promptly jumped
out of – who knew rats could spring over the side of a bucket from a
standstill – a jar with a one-way trap lid that she never went near, and
more than a couple of futile mad dashes as she discovered every hiding
place the kitchen had to offer.
Into the Wild was the thing that
finally snared her, and while sadly she didn't get to enjoy 150 minutes
of soul searching introspection, she did get an up close look at the
main character pensively looking into the Alaskan forest as the DVD case
slid across her path and blocked her escape.
Though she screeched
all the way Into the Cage, her rant certainly seemed akin to the words
of Jon Krauker, "...The trip was to be an odyssey in the fullest sense
of the word, an epic journey that would change everything."
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