Don't tell my kids, but this is mouse war.
A mouse was photographed perching on an exhibit in the Tate Modern art gallery this week. The fact he was snapped suggests that some people think mice are cute creatures. I beg to differ. I am fighting a guerrilla war with mice at the moment. We inherited them when we moved in to rented accommodation while our real house is being torn to pieces by builders. At first I was quite blase. I persuaded myself they were just real life Beatrix Potter characters. As every packet of food in my kitchen cupboards has been attacked, however, my attitude has hardened. I have become the Charles Bronson of mouse extermination.
I now have a night-time ritual, whereby I assemble a sticky trap, a piece of bread and an assortment of jars and bottles so as to construct a run of death for my furry enemies. So far, my strike rate is not good - one lonely mouse.
I am becoming obsessed. This battle has become one of wits as much as hygiene. I will not let the little blighters win. Of course, I have to conceal this all from my children since, in an effort to prevent them pulling cat's tails and turning over lady birds, I have told them all animals are precious. If they knew I had bashed an 'ickle mousey with a saucepan, they'd probably call the RSPCA.
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|Publication:||Western Mail (Cardiff, Wales)|
|Date:||Feb 16, 2007|
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