I have a mouse. He's a very nice mouse. I call him Gerald.

What bums me out is that the house I sold 3 years ago never had a mouse. Also, the windows could be raised and lowered without difficulty.

My new house has mice and windows that stick. Some of them can't be raised at all. This really gets me down.

I killed the mice for the first two years. I used reusable snap traps in the basement. If I overlooked a dead mouse, the stench was unbearable. But there were always more I couldn't trap. I'd hear them in the ceiling and behind walls.

A month ago, in my kitchen, one appeared out of the heat vent, ran over to the refrigerator, and back into the heat vent. I can't put traps in the kitchen because the dog would get caught in them.

Now I can't kill one. I'm getting soft in my old age. I've started to get touchy about the slaughter of chickens, cattle, and pigs. Fish, too.

An interesting contrast to our soft, civilized, Western priviledges.--in China, and I'm sure in other developing countries, pigs are raised and the slaughter is a family event. There is no squeamishness about the pig being anything other than food.

I have a particular fear of rats. I have a rat joke. My husband and I were walking on the Columbia University campus years ago, and a rat scurried across our path. My husband nonchalantly said, "He's looking for the Law School."

Do you think the dog would get along with a cat, a good mouser?

Removing vegetation around the house might help, too: a Fabian "scorched earth" policy, as it were.

Flowers for Algernon

I might be having a problem similar to that of Thomas Hardy, who wrote the following in his preface to the second edition of "Mayor of Casterbridge:"

"Objections have been raised to the Scotch language of Mr. Farfrae, the second character; and one of his fellow-countrymen went so far as to declare that men beyond the Tweed did not and never could say "warrld," "cannet," "advairrtisment," and so on. As this gentleman's pronunciation in correcting me seemed to my Southron ear an exact repetition what my spelling implied, I was not struck with the truth of his remark, and somehow we did not get any forwarder in the matter. It must be remembered that the Scotchman of the tale is represented not as he would appear to other Scotchmen, but as he would appear to people of outer regions. Moreover, no attempt is made herein to reproduce his entire pronunciation phonetically, any more than that of the Wessex speakers. I should add, however, that this new edition of the book has had the advantage of a critical overlooking by a professor of the tongue in question—one of undoubted authority:—in fact he is a gentleman who adopted it for urgent personal reasons in the first year of his existence."

"Furthermore, a charming non-Scottish lady, of strict veracity and admitted penetration, the wife of a well-known Caledonian, came to the writer shortly after the story was first published, and inquired if Farfrae were not drawn from her husband, for he seemed to her to be the living portrait of that (doubtless) happy man. It happened that I had never thought of her husband in constructing Farfrae. I trust therefore that Farfrae may be allowed to pass, if not as a Scotchman to Scotchmen, as a Scotchman to Southerners."

Having also been "a professor of the tongue in question" as well as having adopted it for "urrgent perrsonal rreasons" in the first yearr of my existence also, what can I say? That Scotsmen differ can hardly be news to you; all I can add is that the only reason there'd be one /r/ in the first name would be if it was spelt, "Rabbie." As it often is, for colloquial, intimate and friendly reasons. But if it's being formally spelt as "Robert," believe me, the second /r/ rolls off the tongue in preparation for the third, also in post-vocalic position, in the last name. Linguistics is fun; Jeanie Redpath did an execrable series of records of the songs of Robert Burns some years ago, with some arranger (Serge Hoving?) who seems never to have heard of the "Merry Muses of Caledonia." Doleful stuff. Trruly.

As an almost Scot (my big brother's late step-dad-in-law was a Lanarkshire chap) ... I have to say, John is corrrect in everry rrespect.

That's awfy nice o ye tae say so, Felix.

My mice seems to have developed an immunity to poison. I've now bought three batches from the local hardware store, and it doesn't seem to be working.

I think the ongoing building work on my appartment block has caused them to migrate from their normal refuge in the (now sealed-off) rubbish chute and take up residence in my flat.

It's been about 3 weeks now and it's really starting to annoy me.

Today I bought some old-fashioned traps. Couldn't find any Turkish Delight in the local newsagents- it doesn't seem to be as popular as it once was- so I've baited them with thinly-sliced Snickers bar fragments. If that doesn't work, I'm going to follow the alternative baiting recipe posted above and buy some peanut butter, something I don't usually eat.

And if THAT doesn't work, it's got to be the last resort: the inhumane glue traps.

I'm rather dreading having to do this, particularly after my recent Jack the Ripper research (see Sir William Gull thread), but if all else has failed and needs must, then I'm going to have to take this horrible step.

Not yet, though.

Rodent bodies: 1.
Method: Glue trap.

It's the only thing that works. The little bastards have developed an immunity to poison and are too canny for the conventional traps.

Bought 4 more glue traps today.

It seems to have quietened down my end. The mice did grow an immunity to the poison and they also seemed to stop getting caught in the trap... which had great early success. But they seemed to have gone altogether now... is that possible? Do mice move on?

There was a rather horrendous incident with a mouse being found dead in our living room under a rug. It was as flat as a piece of A4 paper.

At least one mouse still inhabits my flat.

I'm experimenting with:

1. A variation of the glue trap (laying the sticky paper flat, rather than folding along the 'box-shape' perforations).

2. Blocks of concentrated mouse/rat poison, normally for outdoor use. To bait the glue traps, you see.