out of the floor
a poisoned mouse
still who alive
is asking What
have i done that
You wouldn't have
You know what I do for a living.
This poem, and a similar photo, appeared this week in a journal I read for work.
I recently had a mouse infestation at home that my lazy cats didn't seem to manage. (I still suspect it happened because Maisie thought I needed hunting practice and brought me a live one to work with!)
I use live capture traps and let the mice go a good distance from the house. (It has to be at least a quarter mile or they come straight home.) I don't use spring traps and I refuse to use these cruel things. They're called glue traps and the mouse gets stuck to the card and slowly dies from poison, or in the worst cases, starvation.
I don't care how much stuff was spoiled and how much cleaning I had to do to remove all traces. There's no excuse for this.