I've been wondering whether to relate the tale (remember word - it becomes appropriate - tail) of our 'house mice'. Graham was working two days in London last week, so the minute he'd gone, I discovered that we'd had a visit from a furry friend or two during the night. For those of you who are squeemish, read no further, but if you can cope with a guide of how to regain tenancy of your own biscuit cupboard, read on. First there's no point in thinking that mice will get tired of scampering in through the air brick of your house to their new found food store. The best you can hope for is that they eat so much that they'll be too big to squeeze through, but that's going to take years!! You need planning and strategy and something quick and relatively humane. The most reliable is a metal trap which is armed with a large chunk of Tunnuck's Wafer - chocolate and caramel, their favourite. The following night the trap was set off, but luck or judgement meant that 'he'd' had a lucky escape. However, he made (naughty mice are obviously male) the mistake of returning during the day and taking the easy route under the oven. Visitations during the day are just not allowed, so I had to step up my campaign. Once I'd realised that if I placed the trap under the oven there was no room for it to go off, I left it on the kitchen floor and went back to my work. There's one thing setting a trap, but an entirely different matter when you have to deal with the mouse actually taking advantage of this 'quick way out'. To cut a long story short there were three amigos all together, who are now wondering what it was, that was just that little bit quicker than they were...
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