Well, Hank’s not really my friend, he’s more of a nemesis. He’s a little brown mouse who makes his home in my suite in Towers. Apparently leaving an open bag of sunflower seeds on the floor is an open invitation for a mouse to come live in your vent. Who would have thought? I blame my not-so-tidy roommates. By no means is our room a pigsty – it’s normally pretty clean. It just seems like there’s always a half empty bag of corn chips under the couch, or bread crumbs on the floor.
Remarkably, my roommates are unphased by our resident rodent. They make comments, and even small-talk to the mouse as it runs across the common room. They named him ‘Hank’, and, yes, Hank IS cool.
When you have roommates, you have to make allowances for their habits. You can’t get bent out of shape about all the little things that bother you because you wont be able to live with anyone. Normally I let things slide, but you have to draw the line somewhere. I admit, I was fond of Hank at first – until he started leaving sunflower seed shells in my room. That’s when the line was crossed. I decided to get rid of Hank, no matter how popular he was.
I managed to get my hands on a pile of animal-friendly traps. They’re the ones with the superglue. Theoretically, you catch the live mouse in the glue, then release the animal unharmed it into the wild by dissolving the glue with water. There are a number of things wrong with this, but, to be concise and less opinionated, I’ll just say these traps didn’t work.
On a number of occasions, I put peanut butter on the traps and slid them under the couch. I caught more blankets, shoes, videogame controllers, and half empty bags of corn chips than I did mice. One time, I decided to switch to lemon cake. Hank loved the lemon cake. I know this because the cake was gone and there were tiny little scratch marks in the glue. I wondered if getting glue on his feet would make Hank mad enough to leave.
I apologize to animal lovers, PETA members, and friends of mice, but it was time for some heavy artillery. I picked up some real mouse traps – the spring loaded kind. The first night I loaded the trap and placed a big piece of Swiss cheese on it. I fell asleep dreaming of a mouse-less apartment. The next morning the cheese was gone and the trap was still loaded. I was baffled. Maybe the trap was broken? In one of my less inspired life decisions, I touched the top of the loaded trap with my finger…
The trap definitely worked, and it did a number on my finger. I thought I heard a little voice laughing inside the vent.
The rivalry between Hank and I lives on. I am more intent than ever on catching this elusive rodent. I’m pretty sure I’ll host a victory party if I ever catch him. I’ll keep you updated.
