Naturally, when you live on a farm, particular pests have a way of becoming
unwelcomed roommates. Food is a precious commodity and I’m sorry but mice just
aren’t invited to our banqueting table. They had to go.
The bait was set. The bait was taken. Yet the mice were
still alive and… nibbling.
One night during a movie, a little mouse came out to play. With one broom
whack, I surprised myself with a decapitated rodent. One down.
The very next night, another little fellow was found in a bathroom stall. The
broom as my weapon, he landed in our garbage container.
Two down.
I’ll spare you the details of the other kills (and I’ll avoid posting photos of the bodies).
We have a sinking suspicion there might be more… no worries…
we’re prepared.
