Cute Little Fella

So, for a change, I decide to watch some TV around 11:30 with Topher. We're both pretty beat from working all day - and we're just flipping through the channels. As Topher talks about getting something to eat I land on a channel where these guys are exterminating rats from a house. They're all over - in the garbage cans, in the basement, in the walls. The guys are literally screaming because there are rats all over. This reminds me of the pet mouse we have, and my gaze wanders over to the sticky mousetrap I've set on the floor, which was covered with dust from sitting there for over a month. I casually said to Topher that we needed to pick up some wooden mouse traps - the ones that you could put cheese in, you know? Topher ignores me and gets up to see what we have in the fridge. As the rats are screaming on TV, Topher yells and I hear a similar rodent-scream come from the kitchen. And right there, in the middle of the floor, is a mouse dragging one of those sticky traps across the floor.

This little guy was really scared. I looked down at him, and then squatted in front of him to better see the look of utter despair in his sad little eyes. He yelped at me, his adorable little face just asking me for another chance. "I'll be good, I promise, I just want another chance. I won't eat any more bread, and I won't walk on the kitchen counter anymore. Just please let me go back to my family." I think I saw the little guy shed a tear. He was so scared.

So I gave it some thought. What should I do now? Topher didn't want anything to do with it, so I reasoned my options outloud but mostly to myself. Would it even be possible to pull him off the sticky surface to set him free? Because of his struggle he became more and more stuck to the surface, all of his limbs hopelessly attached to that dreadful, inhumane trap. It wouldn't be possible to pull him off without breaking a leg or tearing off skin. I quickly abandoned that idea and began to brainstorm the most humane way to end this innocent life.

Should I drown him in the toilet? Hit him with a hammer? Step on him? Freeze him to death? Put him in a container with some ethyl? I quickly decided that exposing him to ethyl would be the most humane way to let him pass. I would put him in that peanut butter jar and toss in a napkin soaked in ethly. Then I realized I had no ethyl. I couldn't bear to step on him, his cries cut straight through me. I wouldn't sleep for a week if I had to kill this creature with my own force....

So I scooped him up with a dustpan and talked to him, to try to calm him down. He was terrified - and for what? For eating some bread I mistakenly left on the counter? For not cleaning up his droppings after looking for a few crumbs? He respected us - and we respected him. We understood each other...and we grew to accept each other. Now I was holding a dustpan with him in it, stuck to a terrible sticky trap, and I was thinking of ways to end his fragile life.

As I brought him outside into the cold I realized something. That no matter how much I didn't want to believe it, this mouse was going to die. Millions of mice die each year all over the world, and nobody even knows. Why should this one be any different. As I walked down 13th street I also realized that I could never bear the direct responsibility of taking a life... As I watched the cabs zoom by I said farewell to my old friend, and left him in the middle of the intersection.

I watched for a minute or two as the cars missed him - I could barely hear his cries as I walked far enough away not to hear anymore. I watched him struggle to get out of the street, his tired bones pressed by the trap against the cold street as he inched his way over to his unfortunate fate. I painfully watched as the cars came close - ooh, ahhh.... but he was still moving. Finally, it was over. I hope he didn't even see it coming, or feel the G forces as the sticky trap stuck to the tire and was flung across the 20' wide street.

As I walked back home in my pajamas I felt happy to have ended his suffering. In tribute, I left the bread out that night, to mourn the loss of our friend, but also to see if there were any more mice so I'd know how many more traps to buy.