The Tenacious Mice & The Things We Get Used To Living With

For the past few months we've had a mouse problem in my apartment. They
came, some were (unfortunately) put to death, they seemed to disappear for a while (we let the dead bodies linger as a warning sign to new vermin who thought to cross the kitchen territory). But not long after they reappeared (note to self: they are mice, prolific reproduction is sort of what they are known for). I had denial about the mice existing, though it was clear they were back in full glory in the kitchen (this means turds aplenty upon the kitchen counter and the shells of sunflower seeds whose origin we still cannot locate).

The landlord gave us glue traps to catch the poor fuckers on. Now I know death, no matter what the variety & apparatus used, is not a pretty sight. But the glue traps! What happens is the mouse gets stuck on it, but not poisoned or snapped in half or anything, nothing quick or easy. It just sits there and waits for it's certain death to come. While waiting the mice defecate on themselves, generally freak out, and often try to chew off their own limbs to escape. This is more than I can take. I love animals way too much.

So, I decided we'd catch them on the glue traps, then I'd put on my dish gloves and snow boots (necessary precautions) to enter the mouse territory, un-glue them by means of "goo-be-gone" which reads in very bold & red letters "do not digest. do not give to animals" (but there's no other way to get them off that doesn't require cutting off limbs). The mouse gets all slicked down like it's coming out of the womb (in a way this event is giving them life, a new one, a second chance), the goo-be-gone is like 'dapper dan's' hair jelly for mice. The mice do not appreciate this. Nor do they seem to appreciate that I’ve bothered to take a good hour of my day to save them from the pads, resuscitate them, give them water, and food (food!), time to rest up & warm up in their temporary resting accommodations (a mop bucket well cleaned & lined with soft paper towels), then set them free in the endless streets below.

The mice are ungrateful, so my softness to saving them is quickly refrozen and again, I can handle the killings (this mixed with the fact that I have to wash the CLEAN forks every time I grab one from the drawer because mice turds and god knows what else may (or may not) be on it).

I've been on a nocturnal schedule these days (read: I see about 3 hours of daylight each day, maybe 4 on a good day), so the mice's schedule has been colliding with mine every evening. I sit up and watch them in the kitchen, run, chew, make really creepy "squeak squeak, i'm a mouse, i'm so small you can't find me, and even if you did, what you gonna do about it? we're too smart for the glue traps. we own this joint!" noises and I envision all of the perfectly sanitary items in our apartment that they are contaminating with their diseases. We're pretty sure Cash (my 6 pound chihuahua who is the most passive, loving, push-over of a creature you could imagine....he gets scared when we make barking noises as if they are coming from his plush 'hello kitty' doll) stepped up to the challenge and ate one of the mice a few nights ago. Fortunately I didn't have to witness the corpse, my boyfriend found it. He came into the kitchen in the morning and there was the dead mouse spread across the middle of the blood smeared floor, skin & exterior in tact, but entire insides eaten out. Gruesome. Though, in a totally inappropriate way, I was very proud of Cash for being so disgusting & bad-ass.

We've tried to get the landlord to take more extreme measures, get an
exterminator or put out poison, but he's either too drunk or too cheap to get it done (maybe both).

So it's 2:30 am right now and the mice are at it as they always seem to be at this hour. And I realized that I kind of don't care anymore. I mean, they've been here a while already, we haven't died yet, the world hasn't ended, I'm sort of used to seeing their shit everywhere. I feel as if the familiarity of them has somehow placated me into accepting their take over of the kitchen, as if it were only logical, normal, entirely fine. You know, I just am not that passionate about getting rid of them. Better things to worry over.

And I wonder how often in this life we get used to unacceptable things and stop fighting for what we deserve, what is fair & what is righteous. How often do we just get too tired or apathetic and just start accepting whatever it may be....we begin to think it's okay to live with certain things that we really shouldn't live with.......diseased mice, mediocrity, unhappiness, poverty, shitty jobs, unjust wars, people who don't really love us enough......because we've become too worn down to fight (and we really should fight, in most scenarios).

My heart has been feeling so worn down these days, raggedy and tired. The ways of this big, beautiful, but sometimes difficult world, kicking that old heart in the gut, keeping it from making much progress, because just plain living is sometimes almost too much to handle. And a heart that knows it hasn't yet quite fulfilled it's purpose is a sad sad heart when it hasn't the blood pumping through it to keep moving toward that higher place. And so that old heart begins to slow, to acclimate to the pace of the mundane, to turn the most colorless gray, and begin to think that this is okay, this will make it all 'easier.' But ease does not equal peace if such hearts aren't doing what they should.

I realized that I can't quit fighting, even if I wanted to, I couldn't. There's this pre-paved path up to the sky that I've been walking on since the day I was born, and I'd be a fool to try to deny it. And I know this, of course. But sometimes I need to be reminded. Funny how vermin could do that for me. Beauty and wisdom in the most unlikely places. And the color has come back to my heart. Full force. I will make a beautiful painting just as soon as I can.

And I hope we all are fortunate enough to keep getting these little reminders, in whatever form they may come, to keep us marching forward to all that is bigger and greater then we can imagine in our present states.