We live close to the corner of the block. There has been considerable construction on the street in two separate spots on said corner both in front of our building and a few yards to the southeast. As a consequence, mice burrowing beneath the street have been, uh, displaced and have been moving themselves into all varieties of new dwellings.
Like our home.
A short while ago, a lone gunman was discovered on one of our sticky traps, very much alive, but struggling. Presuming the mouse to be one of the strays from the street, we took pity on him. With the help of a knife sharpener (not a knife) and no small amount of difficulty, I was able to dislodge the mouse from the sticky trap and set him free outside for him to find his way. I felt good about this.
The following day, we caught another one in another sticky trap in our living room. This was reassuring in a way, as the mouse was nowhere near the kitchen.
Thirty minutes later, we had caught two more on one single trap. War was seemingly declared. These three were drowned as a warning to others.
We officially have a mouse issue. I am so completely nonplussed about this. It’s wearing on us both.