There is a mouse in my apartment.
Living on the 11th floor, I never thought this would be an issue. But let me repeat: THERE IS A MOUSE IN MY APARTMENT!
Monday night when I came home from class, Jeff told me that he thought he’d seen some unknown critter scurry into the bathroom. We armed ourselves with gloves, a broom and finagled up a trap of sorts (aka, we put a box outside the bathroom door and prayed our mouse friend would run inside). When we opened the door–there was no mouse in sight. Jeff moved the broom all around looking for him but he had disappeared.
Either Jeff was hallucinating, or we had a ghost mouse on our hands.
We didn’t see him again or all day on Tuesday, so we assumed the whole thing was a crazy dream.
But then, that night, as I sat on the sofa typing away at some job interview prep questions, I saw something out of the corner of my eye: A teeny tiny, dark gray mouse swiftly scurrying from across the apartment. I screamed, and that sucker high-tailed it UNDER THE VERY COUCH I WAS SITTING UPON.
Jeff, having heard my girlish cries of horror from the next room, ran out to see what was the matter. As I tried to get over my mini heart attack, I explained that this was no ghost mouse or hallucination, but a very real mouse guest house guest!
Jeff got out the trusty broom and pushed it all around under the couch, trying to coax our friend out, but nothing happened. Where did he disappear to?
We didn’t see him at all yesterday, so we assumed he’d left our apartment and had gone to visit some of our neighbors. But no, as Jeff went to use the facilities this morning he made eye contact with our mouse guest. The mouse scurried behind the toilet, into a little hole in the tile. We have discovered his secret hideaway!
Here’s the thing though–as avid readers of mouse related literature during our childhoods, we have totally anthropomophized this mouse creature and I don’t think we can kill him.
We alternately call him Mathias (from Redwall), Ralph S. Mouse, and Stuart Little. I’ve been imagining him riding around on a little mouse motorbike at night while we’re asleep.
I have a new theory: Do you think that all those children’s books with mouse protagonists are really part of some giant conspiracy from the mouse community to trick humans into thinking of mice as tiny human-esque creatures and that we can all coexist in perfect harmony?
You’ve got to wonder…