Michaela Merz

The mouse

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During the holidays we visited my mother. It is a small village in the middle of the forest. The house was built in 1906. The stable is built from stones, in the cellar there is a spring. However the house has been converted and offers modern comfort. In this hot summer with continuous temperatures of above 30 degrees, the old building which is shadowed from two sides by large trees, turned out to be a blessing. Outside one could fry eggs in the sun and inside there were pleasant 25 degrees.

Since the fridge is rather small dimensioned, we had to bring part of the provisions to the cellar. Temperature wise this did not make much difference, as the temperature in the cellar was around 7 degrees. The next day when I went to collect the muesli we had prepared the previous day, I discovered on the plate covering the bowl, little black evidence that at least one mouse was at work. I lost my appetite. For mice in provisions I don’t have any understanding. I went to fetch the mechanic mouse trap, equipped it with a piece of bacon and put it in the cellar.

The next day I looked after the trap in the morning. The bacon was gone and the mouse trap was empty. It was obvious that I was dealing with a very intelligent and strategically accomplished mouse. Only that I had to leave the further battle to my mother because we had to leave. I packed all the dirty laundry into a plastic bag and carried all bags to the car.

We only arrived home four days later. The plastic bag with the dirty laundry gave off a very unpleasant smell. More unpleasant than usual. I thought that it had to do with the high temperatures and the closed plastic bag.

I emptied the plastic bag in the utility room on the floor and started to sort the things. First the little black things made me perplex. On top of that the bad smell intensified. And then it appeared. A mouse had apparently found its terrible end by suffocation in this plastic bag full of dirty laundry. A dead mouse, that was a first in my utility room.

I took comfort myself in the thought that this mouse could not be the same which had so superiorly fooled me with the mouse trap.

Bildquelle: Rainer Sturm / pixelio.de

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