snake doctor shakin like there's no tomorrow

After my post last night, things got pretty hairy. And I don't mean anything resembling hair. Last night I said how our little mouse buddy was acting a bit odd and slow after his 2nd near death experience. And I felt that gave Gizmo an unfair advantage and to protect the mouse until I went to bed (or figured out a better plan), I put Gizmo in his crate. Moments after doing this, Mr. Shanks decides he'll just come and hang out right outside the crate and chill. Gizmo noticed him as much as the mouse seemed to notice me; not hardly at all. I was pretty close and it wasn't running away from me. But I was still a bit weary of it and kept a safe distance. When it climbed over my slippers and stopped on the edge of my sheet, I cornered it with the slippers and this jar that I had been trying to coerce him into the past few nights. He didn't take any initiative in going in so I kept putting it closer and closer until finally I basically scooped him into it. I thought he was possibly on the verge of death, but once he was in there, he was fine. He was eating chips I had put in there and seemed fine. I guess Shanks was tired of being a fugitive. You can only run for so long. Relieved, I put the top securely on and went to bed.

Happy ending, right? Wrong!

Today I got up and took a shower straight away because I had to leave for a doctor's appointment at one. I come back upstairs and what do I find? Pretty much the thing I'd been trying to avoid throughout this whole ordeal. A dead mouse. Not Shanks, mind you. He was still safely and happily in his little glass entrapment. This was a mystery mouse. I was horrified. I just don't handle dead things well at all. Especially not cute little furry things. After freaking out about it for a little bit, I mustered up the courage to slide it into a box. Ugh. I know that it sounds completely ridiculous to most people, but it was terrible. For me it was terrible. Like I told my mom, I don't care if you kill mice. That's fine by me. Good for you. You must be a big man. But all I ask is that people respect my right to not want to do it and not giving me grief for being, in their opinion, overly compassionate. I can't help it.

Could I blog anymore about mice? Yes, I can.

After all this, I come home from the doctors and there's ANOTHER mouse in my room!! Amazon will you please send the trap I ordered already! I can't deal with this anymore! If I find this mouse dead in my room tomorrow I'm going to have a total meltdown!