My parents’ house was invaded by mice recently. Now don’t get me wrong, I love all God’s creatures. So when a tiny mouse about the size of fifty pence piece poked its wiggling nose out from under the TV cabinet during Question Time I actually “oohed” and “aaahed”.

But that was only the start. Little droppings started appearing in cupboards and in kitchen cabinets. Looking back, it was obvious something was going to happen.  To borrow a quote from The Lord of the Rings, it was “the deep breath before the plunge”.

My parents are very elderly and could not be expected to deal with the situation on their own. The burden fell on me. But ever the pacifist, I was slow to react. I hoped sense would prevail. Perhaps a compromise could be thrashed out? Surely there could be a dialogue and give and take on both sides? But deep within their lair (which I take to be somewhere under the floorboards in next door’s house) the Mouse Lords issued their inexorable orders.  First a scout cheekily leaped around on my elderly mother’s bed side cabinet. She reacted as elderly mums are wont to do, with plenty of screaming. Then the full scale invasion began.

It seems that the mice had been studying classic military history. They appeared to adopt a form of “Schlieffen Plan”, breaking from next door in through holes in our lines in the corner of the kitchen and radiating out via various cupboards and skirting boards in encircling manoeuvres into the front lounge and the sitting room. In the morning there would be the tell tale droppings all around the kitchen work surfaces. I understand that the mice also have incontinence issues, so although less visible there was a real health issue. One day a packet of cream crackers was found chewed open and ravaged. A big one interrupted Antiques Roadshow by zipping about the front room before disappearing behind the fireplace.

I considered the options. A cat? In fact they have a cat, sort of, a formerly totally feral beast that I have managed to largely domesticate over a period of about three years (a post in itself), but he  still cannot be kept in the house at night. Since the mice appeared to operate largely nocturnally using state of the art night vision technology, this was a problem.

I considered other “green” alternatives. A python? Once when I was a little boy I witnessed the grizzly fate of a live mouse left in a python’s tank in a pet shop window (it was not done for show; they did not expect anyone to be around late on a Sunday evening, but naughty little boys are often abroad when they should not be…). I have had a phobia of snakes ever since, and this option had to be rejected. The novel concept of a bird eating spider went the same way.

I consulted an American friend. His immediate response was to suggest a drone strike.

I however, in the spirit of Gandhi or Kofi Annan, responded with what I hoped would be calculated “non-violence”. I therefore purchased a number of clear plastic boxes with maze like interiors into which the bait is placed. The idea is that the mice are enticed in and are then unable to escape the maze and a trap door. Once the mouse has been safely taken prisoner, it can be taken away and let loose, free to invade someone else’s house. They were perfectly useless and the mice left their droppings all over them in an act of calculated humiliation.

It seemed all would be lost, but resolve hardened my heart. Like some latter day Stalin resolved to throw back the invading panzers at all cost, I geared up for all out war, and engaged the full might of military-industrial complex.

First a complex line of “Big Cheese” self contained mouse traps were laid out. These are quite big and appropriately enough look like miniature pill boxes. The idea is that once again you place the bait inside, wind up the internal trap with a clockwork dial and the mouse goes in and – this time, snap! But you never have to see the dead mouse or touch it, you just throw the unit away. Since I am squeamish that was a distinct advantage. I laid them out all over the house like some miniature Maginot Line. But they were about as effective as the highly mobile panzer – mice just manoeuvred around them.

I scaled up with rather more formidable traditional traps, and some strange looking little plastic ones which looked like miniature radar domes, all baited with chocolate. It seems that chocolate, not cheese, is the bait of choice by the way. That was the word on the street at “HomeBase” anyway (other retailers are available).

Still no joy, as the mice proved cunning, even though they were now moving in an environment that resembled a deadly junk-yard from their perspective.

It was time to face the unpleasant truth that I needed to raise my game. I had to make some unpleasant decisions. I felt the lonely burden of command. I had to go for the biological and chemical warfare solution. How would history judge me if I succeeded? But how would history judge me if I failed?

There seemed to be two choices. One was the “mouse glue”. As I understand it this horrific little product does exactly what you imagine, as the poor little blighter gets stuck on the pad. After reading one particularly graphic review of the unpleasant and cruel results on Amazon I vetoed this. Even a latter day Stalin must have his limits.

The other was, unfortunately, poison. After long research into the matter (reading the customer reviews on Amazon, which are really very helpful) I purchased a whole load of appropriately sinister sounding Rentokil PSF135 units. The poison is inside the plastic units, which are placed at strategic places where the mice where the mice run. The poison is both attractive and potent, apparently, and the units can be safely used with cats and so forth around, because only mice sized things can get in.

These proved effective, and slowly the tide of battled turned. One was found in the front room, clearly groggy and dizzy, and I suppose on its way out. The cat came into the room, but just seemed utterly baffled and bemused by the little creature and although it observed it left it well alone. Perhaps the cat assumed rightly that there was something not normal about the thing.

And finally one morning a static trap yielded the prize of an extremely large, and hopefully very cleanly dispatched rodent. As you will know from watching any “alien invasion” film, in the end you have to destroy the alien’s Mother Ship, and it looked to me that that was pretty much what had been achieved. It was the beginning of the end. There were desultory further invasions, but the tide had been turned, and they have more or less gone now.

In fact, I felt sorry for the poor little things. They are just struggling to get by, like we all do, I suppose, playing the hand nature has given them. Next door have had some work done by a sloppy builder and it has caused damp in the foundations. I wonder, therefore, whether the poor meeces may have been provoked into moving by a touch of flooding. That makes me feel even worse. A casualty of the awful summer.

How will history judge me now I have blood on my hands!

Gildas the Monk

Stevegee July 13, 2012 at 10:42

Don’t be beguiled by their sweetness, or believe you can let live if if you
keep your food covered. A thatched cottage in our village was gutted by fire
following what the fire investigation stated was mice chewing through live
wires in the roof space.

Olly
Williams July 13, 2012 at 06:57

Ultimately, both victory and defeat were yours. You are not alone in this
my Good Sir. These vermin are really really getting on everyone’s nerves.
There’s no compromise. They will wreak havoc in your house so the only way to
beat them is to eliminate them.

binao July 12, 2012 at 18:41

Emptying the traps was part of my life as a lad in winter. Folding back the
bloodstained wire to drop the victim out took some getting used to. Could I
get counselling after all these years?
Three or four years ago, I thought
I’d got them in my home, no physical sign but constant and maddening
scratching from parts of the cavity wall and a sealed roof space. A rat had
found a crack in a sewer inspection pit, somehow got into the wall cavity,
then onwards and upwards, even through the cavity foam.
Crack now sealed
up, sewer and surface water inspection pits baited regularly, trap in the
loft, and ultrasonics indoors, job done I hope. The rat(s) eventually gave up
trying to get back in through new concrete, but the claw marks show how hard
they tried. Just a small tip- bait keeps dry in damp drains if its sealed in a
plastic bag and suspended on a string trapped under the edge of the drain
cover. Fatal curiosity does the trick.
Cruel, but it is a war even if
people fight it in secret.

Dave H July 12, 2012 at 18:18

No holds barred when it comes to dealing with mice in the house. We came
back from several months in the US to find traces of mice indoors. We
collected the cats from the people who’d picked them up from the airport and
brought them home, and within a week there was a succession of rodent remains,
some part-eaten, in the shower. One of our cats is nice and civilised (the
mice might disagree) and will dine in the shower where it’s easy to clean up
the entrails. I prefer not to risk poison, although I have left a few snap
traps in the loft space which have caught a few up there.

The body count is much reduced this year though, normally there’s a dozen
or so carcasses visible outside, in various states of decay during the warmer
months, but not at present. They provide good biology lessons, and once the
maggots, slugs, wasps, ants and other scavengers (all observed and recorded)
have done their bit, little mouse bones can be recovered for further biology
instruction of the young.

Brian July 12,
2012 at 18:14

Woman on a Raft is right about removing the food supply. Next, block up all
possible entry points: if you can push a pencil through hole then a mouse can
squeeze through it. Third, traps: I use chocolate biscuits and raisins as bait
although some mice like tuna. I have used the cheap neck snappers and they,
like all traps, work well provided you place them on mouse runs, ie around the
edges of walls. Mice are creatures of habit. This catch and release trap worked very well for me after the mice got used to it. Whatever method you use, check
the traps at least daily, ideally firtst thing in the morning as meeces are
nocturnal. Good hunting!

JuliaM July 12,
2012 at 14:44

At least, apart from the threat of disease, mice are tiny and harmless.
Would that we could say that about some other animals.

Don’t have nightmares.

Anna
Raccoon July 12, 2012 at 15:36

“Hey, let’s be careful out there” – it doesn’t pay to upset a
Raccoon!

Griffin July 12, 2012 at 14:01

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood etc and use a breakback trap, like
the one in your illustration, baited with peanut butter. Never fails.

GildasTheMonk
July 12, 2012 at 14:28

The big debate on the topic of bait is now the peanut butter v chocolate
one.
Cheese is now regarded as passe, and very much a 19th century
approach. It has been consigned to history.
I have found that there are
those who will not countenance anything but peanut butter. On the other side
of the debate are those who will only use chocolate. Within this faction
there is a radical Provisional style group who will only use very high
quality dark 70% proof dark chocolate. Whether there is a similarly radical
faction within the peanut butter party is unclear to me.
The two groups
seem completely irreconcileable, and I fear that armed conflict may erupt in
HomeBase, centred around the garden furniture section.
I myself adopted a
moderate, middle of the road stance of using Cadbury’s dairy milk chocolate,
but found that I was thus attacked from all sides.
Such is politics.

Woman on
a Raft July 12, 2012 at 15:09

Hygiene: enclose all food in tupperware boxes and swab shelves with
strong-smelling modern chlorinated cleaners. The mice will go more towards
the bait if they are not lured by foods they are familiar with and already
recognize as dinner.

Quite by accident, I found that they like the batter off fried fish.
Wheat based, oily, and very smelly. Pong, that’s what yer mouse likes.

GildasTheMonk July
12, 2012 at 15:44

Fascinating!

Backwoodsman
July 12, 2012 at 18:37

Smooth or crunchy ? Decisions, decisions !

GildasTheMonk
July 12, 2012 at 12:51

I still feel like a murderer!

macheath July
12, 2012 at 13:40

Don’t – the life of small rodents is, by its very nature, nasty, brutish
and short; they are, essentially, sentient fast food for bigger mammals and
birds.

At least your victims were spared being eaten alive; snap-traps are
designed to kill instantly, cats and other predators are not.

Engineer
July 12, 2012 at 13:52

This is true; anybody who has observed a cat with a mouse, or a raptor
with it’s prey, will be well aware that nature is routinely cruel – a
point that many in the bunny-hugging fraternity fail to understand at all,
even if they observe it themselves.

Engineer July 12, 2012 at 12:42

Where is Caedmon’s Cat when you need him?

Mike
July 12, 2012 at 12:41

Wot yall need is a cat to git rid o the mice..

However, when the cat begins to breed

Then yo gona need a daug to get rid o the cats.

But wheyn the daug…..

Crikey ! July 12, 2012 at 12:18

Nature (or perhaps recent western history) has offered a solution, Monkish
one.

Entice a female mouse with platitudes about ‘EEkwality’. Fund her with
largesse from the cheese shop. Soon there will be mousette collectives
berating the male mice and blaming them for everything, including your junk
yard. The population will fall rapidly as the mouse chaps decamp elsewhere,
perhaps to someone else’s home where the lady mice are friendlier.

GildasTheMonk
July 12, 2012 at 12:39

Cynic!

Crikey !
July 12, 2012 at 12:40

Its a job. Someone has to do it.

macheath July 12,
2012 at 11:54

Oh dear – I think you can now fully expect to be reincarnated as a hagfish
or an intestinal worm….

My parents had to deal with repeated mouse trouble thanks to the farm next
door. My father’s method of choice was to keep a loaded air pistol with him at
all times, ready to draw and fire at any rodent that emerged from its hiding
place – rather startling, I admit, for anyone else who happened to be in the
room, though most of his hunting was in the took the form of lying in wait for
the invaders when the rest of us had gone to bed.

My mother repeatedly remonstrated with him about this lamentable habit, not
least because of the growing number of pellet-holes in the walls, but
they
never found a more effective one.

JuliaM July 12,
2012 at 14:01

He must have been a hell of a shot!

macheath July
12, 2012 at 14:13

He was pretty good – and always in practice. As a devotee of BB, George
Borrow and T H White, he liked the idea of living off the land as far as
possible so we ate a great deal of pigeon and rabbit.

I was always profoundly grateful he didn’t expect us to eat the mice as
well …

Joe Public
July 12, 2012 at 18:04

A possibly more-effective weapon could be Metal
Storm.

At a claimed 1.62 million rounds/minute (!) I’m sure it would rapidly
destroy any rodent’s hiding place.

Hysteria July 12, 2012 at 11:45

sympathies…

“my” mice invade from the fields in the colder winter months and disappear
again once things warm up. During the height of the offensive campaign, we use
high tech electronic fences, backed up by a potent but invisible force field.
This is augmented by selective hardening of key tactical points.

(Ultrasonics; moth balls; chicken wire)

…bastards….

GildasTheMonk
July 12, 2012 at 12:40

Are these field mice? And are they different from my town meeces? Should
different rules of engagement apply?

macheath July
12, 2012 at 13:03

Fieldmice are prettier and often prefer natural wholefoods to the sort
of thing they find in cupboards – sometimes they even hide caches of
garden seeds indoors.

This means the ‘traditional’ urban bait of cheese or chocolate is less
likely to attract them – you could try linseed, perhaps, or raisins.

Andrew Duffin
July 12, 2012 at 11:44

Standard 50p wooden traps with the big strong springs have always worked
for us, but you have to deploy them as soon as ANY mice appear.

Generally, each year as soon as the fields have been harvested and the
weather gets cooler, they appear. Out go the traps, we catch five or six a
night, then two or three a night, then they’re gone.

If you wait until they establish themselves and start to breed, you’re
asking for trouble.

But don’t bother with all that fancy technology – just good old-fashioned
traps from the ironmonger.