My food safety training has taught me to know the signs of a mouse, and I recognized the chew marks and tiny poop pellets immediately and horror began to set in. While it was clear that the mouse danger zone had been contained to two small cabinet areas of the kitchen, I still felt robbed of my personal security. Ironically, a mouse had come into the cabinet under the kitchen sink to eat none other than the mouse attractant bottle we had left there. Mmm, I bet that plastic was tasty, and we sort of set ourselves up for the loss on that one.
We took everything out of the drawers and put them on the counters so that we could clean: pots, pans, utensils. A stack of cookie sheets here, measuring cups there. Since no stores were open to solve the problem of the entrance hole, my better half set two traps overnight until we could fill the holes the next day. I am fine with that, until the next morning.
When my 4:45 a.m. alarm went off, I didn't even get to snooze because I was too horrified by the rustling noise. I was certain that the noise I heard was a creature walking on the pile of cookie sheets. The hubs couldn't sleep over my whimpering, so with a twinge of annoyance assuming that I was making it up, he got up to look. Oh shit, there it was again.
Based on his findings (this is all legend since I refused to look myself), he had caught a mouse in both traps, although the one in the drawer did not enjoy a quick end and the horrible noise was him MOVING AROUND IN THE KITCHEN DRAWER. I couldn't stand getting ready for work just listening to that all morning, so he showed his utmost braverism and removed the outlaw from the house. Worst. noise. ever. As I got into my car for work, I hear rustling coming from the garbage can in the garage.
I sent this picture to the hubs and asked him if this was the mouse we caught:
You will be happy to know that our kitchen is now creature-free. Although the sound still haunts me.