I rely on my two cats to tell me anytime there’s the faintest chance of a mouse in the house. After the experience I had two winters ago, I still hate to put my hand into any container that has food in it, without inspecting it first. Two years ago, I was storing a fifty-pound bag of potatoes in the garage. We’d found a great deal on potatoes, but I had nowhere to store it in the house, so we kept it in the cold garage. I figured that was the best place for something like that anyway. Didn’t they used to store potatoes in cold cellars in the old days?
I was going to make mashed potatoes for dinner that night, so I padded out into the garage, reached my hand into the large bag and groped around, and was shocked beyond belief when my hand closed on a stiff, furry object instead of the smooth surface of a potato. Turns out it was a mouse that had crawled into the bag and died.
Now, we own two cats, and guess where they sleep at night? In our garage. I don’t want another mouse in the house, garage, or anywhere else in my home, for that matter. We haven’t had an incident ever since we got the cats.
But now, I have the worst suspicion that those mouse-free days may be over. For the last week, every time I let the cats into the garage for the night, they immediately crouch down and peer under our tool cabinet. Occasionally, they’ll swipe a paw around down there. I’m convinced that we may have a mouse in the house, or maybe even a mouse nest. As the days have passed this week, I was certain that our two cats would eventually take care of the problem. After all, whenever I let them outside, they always return with a “present” for me. Of course, I am probably less enthusiastic about the dead mice gifts than my cats are, but that’s beside the point. I know they’re good mousers. So, why do we have a mouse in the house?
Surely these cats will take care of the problem without any further action on my part. I can’t stand the idea of “padding” out into the garage in my bare feet, just to walk over mouse droppings, or have a startled creature scamper across my toes. Worst, my hand still spasms involuntarily whenever I think about what I pulled out of that potato bag.
But, as the days have gone on, the cats still stalk the tool cabinet, but they have nothing to present to me. Why would a mouse stay in a house with two cats, unless they have an alternate and safe way to get in and out?
So, instead of relying on pets to take care of the mouse problem for me, I’m calling Allstate Animal Control. I’d be a lot happier knowing they’ve gotten rid of all the mice for me, and my cats can go back to just sleeping in the garage.