We caught the mouse in our kitchen this evening. Cheeky little bastard was wandering about on the kitchen counter at about a quarter to 7 whilst Colin and I watched telly in the next room. I'm not sure but I think it might have been suicide, as Hollyoaks was on at the time.
When we heard the trap go off, we looked round the partition wall and all but its head was sticking out of the trap and its wee legs were flailing about all over the place. We found this quite amusing, and went to find something to put it in to release it into the "wild" outside. Then it stopped moving. We thought we used a humane trap as it was only made of plastic, but I suppose we didn't account for the fragility of a small rodent's neck.
It looked so small and furry, the cheese it was after dropping out of its mouth as I took it outside. There was almost a tear in my eye as I debated putting it in the wheelie bin, before deciding that was an undignified end, and lobbing it into the undergrowth instead.
Sleep well, little man. Sleep well.
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