Wednesday, 28 September 2011

Chocolate Mice

Please help us welcome Larion Wills today.

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Yes, mice can be addicted to chocolate too. How do I know? That's my rant. This week I discovered, to my complete dismay, new tenants, uninvited, had moved in when I decided our guests deserved more than a trundle day bed to sleep in and took advantage of my hunking 200 pound grandson to do the furniture moving for me. Another one of my great ideas; it only cost me an antique kerosene lamp, but that's a separate rant. Our guest room is like I'm sure many of yours are, a general catch all. Whenever I have guests it takes a major cleaning and rearranging. You know the room, if you can't think where else to put it or you want it out of sight in a hurry, put it in there. We haven't had a guest since last Nov making it nearly a year since I'd opened the door to do more than add a box to rapidly growing stacks making the room look like a second hand stores back room. My plan did, however, take me into the nether regions to discover we'd been invaded. First alert: mouse ran across the floor when I opened the door. I'm not a screaming eeker type person, but I did groan. Second: we started moving all those boxes that had stacked up. I'm sure I had a reason for saving all those empty ones, really, and oh, that's where that went. Mouse tu--ummm--can I say that here? Well, their leavings were scattered all over the floor in the corners. Then we took the bed apart and found wrappers from the individual candies, empty, of course, that I'd put out for guests along with more 'leavings' on the under mattress. Yuck. A quick search confirmed, the dishes of chocolate that I hadn't paid too much attention to--not being my favorite brand and held for emergencies only when I run out of ding dongs, (such as a severe snow or rain storm that grounds me when the urge to imbibe hits) were empty. Not only that, the covered dish of M & Ms, the real emergency stash, had the lid off to the side and it was empty. They were stealing my chocolate! This means war.

Out go the poison baits and then the discovery that when you remove a mouse nest, sweep away all the M & Ms they moved to their stash, the little beasts get upset and start running around where they hadn't been running before, like across the living room when you're watching TV. They didn't need to come out before. They had all my chocolate to eat. I also discovered there are some finicky mice that won't eat certain types of bait even when you cover it with chocolate syrup. Yes, I was desperate. Well what else would I use for bait? As well as the poison not seeming to work, I was greatly disappointed in my two dogs, six year old Maltese. They never seemed to notice the new activities, not even when one of the brazen little devils perched on the edge of their water dish for a drink.

Off to the store for a new bait, but there's hope. The same day I put out the new bait, Guy, the larger of the two dogs, saw one. He didn't catch it, but it did put him on the hunt. I watched him for an hour sniffing and scratching at the door the mouse ran under, back to the spare room haven. He gave up, laid down, and out came the mouse. The race is on; he nails it. I'm so proud and then frustrated. He does not kill. Maybe kill isn't in a house dog's forte, but really, throwing it around, pouncing, throwing, and by now Nekko, the smaller dog figured out something is going on. Guy tosses, the mouse runs, they get it trapped behind the water dish. This is a good time to mention that Nekko is nearly blind. Still when the mouse ran out his side, he caught it--and tossed. He couldn't see where it landed and because he tossed, neither could Guy. The mouse ran back under the door. By the time I could get the door open for them to continue the chase, the mouse was, of course, nowhere in sight.

Is that the end of the story? Of course not. Grandson had left, husband wasn't home, and there's only me and the two dogs to deal with a mouse that has a death wish. After an hour of both of them sniffing and pawing at the door--I can't let them in there for the poison out--they lay down, and I swear not two minutes later, out comes the mouse. Do you suppose it needed a chocolate fit? Just stupid? Or maybe the first poison is slow acting and the thing has lost its mind. Whatever, I have to tell you I'm a bit on the squeamish side when it comes to exterminating any living creature, but when Guy nailed it again and Nekko joined him for the let's toss it around party, I couldn't take it anymore. I looked for the nearest easy to wield item that would serve as a weapon before they lost track of it and it dove under the door again. Snatching up a heavy handled screwdriver hubby hadn't put away, I thumped it in the head. Shudder. Shudder. Cringe. Okay, I tell myself, it had to be done. There was no sense torturing the prey. Hopefully the rest will eat the poison and save me the trauma of a quick dispatch, although the dogs did seem to have fun. Mice are cute little things, and I wouldn't mind sharing space with them if they weren't so messy, carried who knows what diseases, and DIDN'T steal my chocolate!

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Larriane AKA Larion Wills, two names one author, thousands of stories.

Blurb

Eighteen and in deep trouble, Chase is given a choice, keep his mouth shut about the beating they gave him and leave town or go to prison for rape. Twelve years later he can’t leave the doubt alone. Was Tiffany pregnant? Discovering Tiffany didn’t lie, at least that time, he returned. Suffering the lengths they went to be rid of him, he knows what they’d do if they saw him. Only wanting to see the boy, from a distance, not cause trouble, he never expected to be allowed anywhere near the child. He gets a startling invitation to stay with disturbing results. Tiffany disappeared years before, both her parents are dead, all three under suspicious circumstances. The lone family survivor, Tiffany’s younger sister, inherited the family fortune and his son. Grateful to Sydney for the care she gives Ryan, fascinated by her, he can’t help seeing something is not right even before he’s told were there enough evidence, she’d be on trial for murder.

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4 comments:

Anthology Authors said...

Hm... that would mean immediate death to the mice. I do not share my chocolate. (g)

Marci

HeWhoMustObey said...

Yeah, we have a guest room like that. Doesn't everyone?

Also, you could borrow one of Marci's cats. They are better programmed for mice than are dogs. My own dog likes to hunt mice, but give me a cat any day when there's mice about.

Stephy Smith said...

Years ago I was told to use Exlax. I don't recommend it unless you put down a lot of plastic, have a good carpet cleaner on standby and a vast amount of time! It works and they will not return to the area. Your book sounds intriguing.

Larion aka Larriane Wills said...

my sincere apologies for not being her on the day this posted, to the four strong ladies and all you dropped by. in dealing with a crisis with an Alzheimer mother and then shoulder surgery for my daughter, my calendar got buried and my head was going too many directions at once. we're still in a crisis state with mother, but daughter is doing fine. again, i am so sorry for not being here when i should have been.
PS, Stephy my grandmother told me about exlax years ago, but she used it safely in the attic for them to--shall we say, shit themselves to death. I did think about borrowing a cat, but the last one i had brought mice in to play with, not kill them for trespassing. one it lost once gave us--well me--a good laugh though. It hit in my husbands boot until he stuck his foot in there. he did a really neat gig. I'm not good at sharing chocolate either. i've decided to stop sitting it out in pretty little dishes and hide it in tins.