Critter Contained

I almost hit someone on the way home from work today. He came running down the sidewalk out of nowhere, glaring at me as I got to the intersection, and raced on by. I admit that my heart skipped some beats because I can’t swear that he really did just appear; maybe he was there and I just didn’t see him because he was wearing the same colors as the van in front of me. Or my eyes are just tired and weren’t looking. But I was shook, nonetheless, all the way home.

Inquisitive mouseI opened the apartment door to hear a little squeak from under the kitchen sink. There is not supposed to be a squeak there and it is Not A Good Thing from my wimpette perspective. We have mice at the office and they sound like that when they are stuck in glue traps. I don’t have any traps under the sink, mind you, and maybe it’s a squirrel, not a mouse. But something is definitely making little squeaky chirpy noises. It’s annoying and irritating. I want to open up the cabinets to confront it but what if it runs out and over my feet or turns out to be rapid squirrel that attacks me or runs loose in the apartment? I’d rather leave it under the sink and hope it can find its way out the same way it came in.

So I called My Brother the Construction Lawyer who is my expert in these things. In addition to actually owning a home instead of renting an apartment, he has a ranch (a fancy name for a house in the middle of nowhere that needs a lot of work). And on this ranch he has dealt with all manner of critters. Besides, he lives in Texas and is a guy and likes this stuff. I do not. He thinks I’m funny and told me if I didn’t want to open the doors to see what actually was under the sink, to put rubberbands around the door handles to keep the doors from opening and wait for the thing to go away or die. Oh boy.

His alternative was to take a big can of tomatoes and put it in front of the cabinet, but I was sure I’d trip over it. Mostly I thought I was supposed to take the can of tomatoes and hit a crazy-running mouse or squirrel with it as it squeaked by. He thought that was hysterical but I was serious. I would never manage very well in the country.

So for tonight the cabinet doors are rubberbanded shut and I’m hoping the little squeakbox goes outside to play with its friends and leaves me alone. I don’t want to have to call in someone who actually can face them.