Cenizo Journal Winter 2020 | Page 25

“ Surely it will be seen that we were only defending the life we had built, our home, our property. “ walk into a complete horror show. We put out a few traps, caught a couple of mice, thought, hoped, that was the end of it. Ha! We cleaned and cleaned, and yet the next morning, there were new droppings where we had just cleaned. By Day Three, hearing the mice in the attic, seeing those brazen intruders parading across our floor as we were eating dinner, we succumbed to using the most effective but inhumane of traps, the stickies. As soon as we caught them, Charlie killed them so they didn’t keep suffering. . . although my heart was quickly hardening. We had nine dead. More days of cleaning, more nights of the sounds of scratching and scurrying. More mice walking around our house, unaffected by our presence, claiming our home as their own. We still couldn’t unpack from our trip home, couldn’t put food into the cupboards. On Day Eight we emptied everything out of our crawlspace attic. Boxes of ceramics, plastic tubs of photographs, and bags and bags and bags of Styrofoam packing peanuts from the past 25 years. (What?) We vacuumed. We vacuumed so much we blew out the motor on the vacuum. (And yes, we did wear substantial facemasks.) Now we could better see where the villains might be entering. We put sticky traps all around the perimeter of the attic to hopefully clue us in on their exact entrance point(s). This was enlightening. The tally was now 19 dead. Day Twelve, with 30 dead, Charlie devised another strategy. (I must insert that Charlie stayed in remarkably good humor throughout.) On a ladder propped against the gutter on the south side of our roof, Charlie sprayed expanding foam insulation under the fascia board to fill the multiple ridges of the metal roof. He also returned to the attic and put screen over the insulation that was exposed between the 2 x 4 studs. That night, there were no deaths. No mouse sounds. No mice in traps. Silence prevailed. We have now completed eight nights of no deaths. I admit that I am still holding my breath, but I am beginning to believe that the siege is, indeed, over, that the mice can no longer find entrance to our house. We are not killers. We have always been kind to animals. This was self-defense. And yet, when it was over, 30 lay dead or dying. By Judy Eron We print CENIZO ~ let us work for you, too. From rack cards and brochures to directories and guides … From maps and post cards to flyers and magazines … Our careful customer service and Web-based seminars will help you create an outstanding publication. Call us for prices and details 210-804-0390 shweiki.com Shred by E. Dan Klepper l.com www.CenizoJourna ©edanklepper FRE E 0 WIN TER 202 “It is the life fire ct of the flake, the of the crystal, the archite of the frost, the soul of it.” crisp winter air is full of the sunbeam. This - John Burroughs Cenizo Winter 2020 25