The house we're living in now sat empty for five months. This meant that we have had to deal with spiders and moths and ... mice.
Just one family of mice, it seems. We saw the mother mouse one night and had no luck catching her that night - or for the next five nights. She (I am simply assuming it was a 'she' based on the age of the mice that came after she was gone) came out every night, late at night.
Mice, I don't mind. Mice in the house, I do mind - not so healthy. Catching her and moving her outside would not have been a kindness. Between fighting with the voles and outside mice for a new home in an unfamiliar environment and fleeing from the constant threat from cats, she would live in terror for a few days, max - our cats really are very good mousers. So when I saw the mouse in the kitchen in the middle of the day, and we both froze, I called to Hannah to run get Aradia. Aradia caught her in a millisecond, and that was that.
Two days later, the juveniles started coming out. Three of them in three nights. There is only one left now. Last night Matt and I had it cornered in the bottom of a file cabinet. He grew up 'dispatching' of animals. I did not. So when he scared the mouse out my direction, I hesitated - in a manner of speaking.
According to him I screamed like a girl as I jumped out of the way of the cute little mouse with the big ears and it got out of our carefully laid trap. I reminded him that it has indeed been a girl he's been married to for the last eight years. And that I may have screamed at a mouse that he would have killed with ease, but I birthed three babies, a feat that would make him scream like a girl should he attempt it, thank you very much.
So now we still have one little mouse running around and me with a reputation - that I am fine with - for being too soft to kill.