So, ever since our little experience with a temporary Pit Bull and her family of fleas, I have persistently had the heebie jeebies and creepy skin crawlies. Even after spraying, powdering, vacuuming, doing the "walk around with white socks and you'll know" test, and carpet cleaning, weeks later, I still imagine that every black speck and tiny itchy skin feeling are sure signs of residential flea infestation.
I had been watching Mario (my cat) like a hawk, trying to determine if he looked infested. After seeing him "scratch" once, I decided to buy a flea collar, just to be sure. It took me probably twenty minutes of confused browsing before I actually purchased the collar; I'm not sure why they even have "shampoo" for a cat, because there is no way in hell I would be able to immerse him in water when he runs like the wind if he sees me merely coming towards him after watering the plants.
Anyway, I bought the collar (because I couldn't find drops that weren't $50.....come on, $50???? Not to mention, if I even got them on him in some slightly successful fashion, he'd probably run away and try to lick them off, and then, of course, die), and actually got it on him with hardly any fuss. Mario has never worn a collar or any form of decoration, so I was rather surprised that he submitted to this.
Yes, he submitted. But the glowering looks he gave me afterward had me a little concerned.
He adjusted to the whole thing, I have no idea if it worked, and have become OCD about watching him to make sure he's not trying to lick it, or trying to take it off and slip it into my food while I'm not paying attention.
Fast forward an evening or two later: Infestation, Part Deux.
My mother recently gave me one of those sonic mouse-repelling devices, which allegedly deter mice from your home due to some ear bleeding sound which only mice (and other rodents) can hear. Every year when it starts to get chilly, my home becomes the new home for local mouse or mice in the neighborhood. I never really know whether it's more than one, because, not to be mouse-ist here, but the ones I've come into contact with really all kind of look the same. Basic grey/light brown, perky, cute.
Now, I have previously gone the horrible poison-pellets-in-a-decorative-box route, but hoped perhaps this might work, instead (though I considered that the mouse would just avoid the kitchen and come into my bedroom). After testing it out with my guinea pig in the next room (because, to be honest, before I looked it up, I wasn't sure if it was a "rodent." Sorry, Penelope.), and assuring that she wasn't running around her cage in a deranged fashion (any more than usual), I kept the device plugged in for the night.
As I lay in bed (facing the door, of course), I had a clear view of the stove, which apparently is the Express Mouse Elevator to the counter tops. Within ten minutes of lights out, Mr. Mouse appears on the stove. The stove is less than three feet from the red-light-blinking sonic death machine. Apparently, this mouse is either hard of hearing, has proactively stuffed cotton in its ears, or, the sonic death machine is a load of crap. The mouse actually ran past the outlet to check out the sink area. I think he even danced a jig and gave me the finger afterward.
Needless to say, I was flabbergasted, and resigned myself to the fact that I would have to pursue other means of mouse repelling.
Now, before I get into the rest of this part of the story, I will tell you a few things.
First, the idea of poisoning the mouse/mice is a horrific thing to me. I remember my first experience with the little green nuggets of death, and the fact that I had found little piles of pellets on the steps, far away from the original decorative box. When I mentioned this to my brother in law, he said, "it's probably because the mouse was taking them to its' family."
Welllll, thanks, Dave. Enter visions of Mom Mouse exictedly telling her 432 kids that she found this great portable food source, and would be bringing loads of it to them and stocking up, so they could survive the harsh winter. 432 Kiddie Mice, including weak, crippled, Tiny Tim Mouse, are tearfully overjoyed that they have such a great Mom Mouse.
Yeah.
I don't like the poison situation, but the sound of springing traps and mouse neck-breaking in the middle of the night do not entice me, either. I also know that the whole "catch and release" thing is just further invitation for them to group up with their friends once thrown back into the wild, and tell them about the cool new home they found. (and yes, I've actually caught and released, which is actually some good aerobic exercise)
So, back to the store I went........
(Stay tuned for Part Three, and the Exciting Conclusion of "Infestation!!!!!" )
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