Brad’s Take

I created a monster.

Step 1 – I bought a Victor (the common brand) mouse trap some six years ago. I had mice in the barn. I wanted to nail them. I got the ‘permanent’ bait ones, with the yellow plastic tab.

Step 2 – The mouse trap works. In the fall mice invade, I set the trap at a corner. About once or twice a day – when I feed the cats – there may be a mouse in the trap. Quite reliable.

Step 3 – (I didn’t have anything to do with this step) One of the barn cats had kittens, maybe 4-5 weeks ago.

Step 4 – When I find a mouse in the trap (see above), I carefully raise the snapper-bar-wire thingy, outside the barn door where the cats are waiting for me to emerge with a measure of cat food, flip the mouse out on the ground without touching the yellow tab or the mouse. Call me finicky.

Step 5 – Reset the trap, put it back in action, all without having ever touching the yellow tab. I do this by pulling the wire-snap bar thingy back, set the trigger wire up, and hold the trap vertical with the yellow tab facing up, and tilt it back a bit until the catch in the tab falls over the trigger wire. Get my fat fingers out of the way, grab the trap by the sides at the end away from the yellow tab, and gently place facing the wall at the productive corner.

One of the kittens from Step 3 found one of the mice from step 4 the other day. I noticed that two of the six in the current litter – small kittens for their age – run about as fast as I walk. I don’t do much running, so I haven’t timed their best speed, but it is plenty fast enough for them to run out from the barn as I walk up, and stay under my feet until I get to the barn door in step 4.

Now one of the part-grown kittens thinks the mouse that sometimes falls afoul of the trap (see step 4) is expected. The dang thing – a cream stripe tabby, a bit fuzzier than an American short hair, coloring is just like Mama – about went crazy, searching under my feet for the mouse that wasn’t there tonight (all the trap caught tonight was tail, and that slipped away when I checked the trap where it had been dragged under the ladder). I was disappointed to not nail the mouse; the kitten (belly full of milk) was frantic, worried about where the mouse-treat was.

A little fuzzy monster. Now I can hardly walk near the barn, for the blasted kitten under my feet.

I can’t wait until Mama teaches the oh-so-patient feline about catching it’s own supper. I mean, I am happy that I don’t have to worry about disposing of the mice, but I would really rather the cats catch what they want to eat in addition to my six year old mouse trap.

And I told them so tonight. I looked at the fuzzball (no name has come to mind yet), and said “Meiww.” I hope they all understood – I wasn’t kit-ting.