out of the floor
quietly Stare
a poisoned mouse
still who alive
is asking What
have i done that
You wouldn't have
*********
No apologies. 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.
2 comments:
Glad to hear it... Too much cruelty in the world without adding to it. Little mouse is only looking for food and somewhere nice to sleep the winter through. My much beloved gathered up the hazelnuts from the garden and stored them in the garage. The mice thought that was very kind of him. In the springtime when dearly beloved was cleaning out the garage found all the nuts had gone and a lovely empty mouse nest full of nutshell down the back of our freezer... Bless them all creature great and small :-)
If there is any universal justice, everything we kill will be waiting for us when we die and we then have to give them an accounting for our actions.
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