So as of tonight the "mouse count" is up to 6; (not six in one night, but total since I found mouse # 1). This guy was stuck to a glue trap for mice AND rats, so it was a deep tray full of very sticky glue. He had already escaped out of one of the other traps, the glue traps for mice that I bought. The one that caught him for good came from the Rodent Guy, and the Pro's don't mess around. That trap was meant to stick the poor unfortunate soul who ventured on the glue fast and tight. As soon as I saw the mouse I knew I would have to end its suffering - his eye was stuck in the glue. His nose was half in the glue as well. The only thing I could think of was a quick death by my foot. I folded the glue trap on top of him, he squeaked. I think I scared him, plus I'm sure the glue stuck him from above also. I wrapped it in a grocery bag, and ~gulp~ stomped once, very hard.
My 8 year old boy laughed, it was a brave laugh as boys will sometimes do to mask their feelings. He may have felt bad for it, but he laughed instead. I thought at first he was being really horrid, till I realized his laugh was not the usual laugh. He was a little more animated than usual, so I think he might have been a little affected by the mouse. But on the whole, I think he was just being a typical boy. They laugh at things like that.
Lily cried. She knew I was going to have to kill it, but still she cried. I hugged her, let her sit on the kitchen counter while I cooked dinner. Her and I talked over why I had to kill the mouse. I told her a story from my childhood, a squirrel fell into our fireplace. It didn't die right away, but it was badly hurt from the heat. My mother wanted to kill it, put it out of it's misery, I cried, I wouldn't let her! I was also older and in need of a lesson. My mother didn't kill the squirrel, instead we watched it die a long painful death. I knew she was right then, the animal needed to die fast, no more pain. So I related this story to Lily, and how I learned a lesson that night. I asked Lily if she were mad at me for killing the mouse. She said she was a little, the mouse was "so cute, he looked like a baby mouse!" But she also understood the squirrel story and she gradually began to realize it was for the best.
I have never had to stomp on a creature. I really, really, really, really hope that was the last little dude. I spray foam/steel wool-ed the crap out of all the little places the mice were known to travel. I guess it worked.
Knock on wood that was the last mouse.
I don't want to stomp on anymore creatures.
yuck.
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