ok - so this doesn't really have anything to do with pooning, but it does involve furry little creatures though so I guess it almost counts.
I discovered I had a new roomie living under my kitchen sink - little droppings and bits of chewed paper were a dead giveaway. "This simply won't do", I says to myself. So off I trudge to Canadian Tire in search of Bait and Switch - errr, I mean bait and trap (been reading too much CL). Got myself a couple of bad-ass traps.
"I'm gonna catch me a mouse yuh-huh", I repeat to myself as I calmly set the trap (and let the trap snap shut on my fingers holy $#%* that hurts). The trap has a plastic flipper shaped like Swiss cheese that's supposed to fool the little buggers. The only one it fooled was me to think that a mouse was gonna fall for that ol' trick. So, I set the trap in position and went to bed thinking I'm gonna have a mouse mcmuffin next morning.
Needless to say, I was more than a little disappointed to see the trap was rejected and unsprung. No man, you gotta have real food to catch these devious f**ks. Ok, ok - so now I got a plan. I go dig in the fridge to find a suitable piece of cheese to set on the bait trigger thingie. I know mice like cheese. Again, I set the trap in place and stumble off to bed.
I open the sink door only to find that the cheese is gone and the trap is unsprung. "Cheap friggin' trap!", I says. Doesn't work worth a S**t!. Ahhrrgg, waitasec, I know what the problem is - not enough cheese. He's not banging on the trigger long enough to spring the latch. Ha! Ok, ok - so now I got a real plan. I sprinkle bits of cheese all on top and underneath the trigger. The longer he has to frig with the trap, the better the chances are he's going to get a spring sandwich. Once again, I slink off to bed hopeful this time I've got his number.
Next morning, I open the sink door. What fresh hell is this? Once again, I experience severe trauma - no mouse. I'm beginning to sense that I'm not dealing with an ordinary country mouse. I get a picture in my mind's eye the little creep was probably jumping up an down on the trigger just to piss me off. "Alright buster, you're ass is mine", I mutter.
I hump over to CT once again and buy some baited sticky pads. That night, I baited the spring trap with the cheese (luckily I got lots of that). I tucked the spring trap in the corner under the sink and made a little barracade with the sticky pads. Mouse has to cross over the pads to get the cheese. I cross my fingers and pray that mouse doesn't know how to use a pole vault. Off to bed I go.
I'm happy to report one less mouse lives in my house.
Please send condolences c/o Jabba.
I discovered I had a new roomie living under my kitchen sink - little droppings and bits of chewed paper were a dead giveaway. "This simply won't do", I says to myself. So off I trudge to Canadian Tire in search of Bait and Switch - errr, I mean bait and trap (been reading too much CL). Got myself a couple of bad-ass traps.
"I'm gonna catch me a mouse yuh-huh", I repeat to myself as I calmly set the trap (and let the trap snap shut on my fingers holy $#%* that hurts). The trap has a plastic flipper shaped like Swiss cheese that's supposed to fool the little buggers. The only one it fooled was me to think that a mouse was gonna fall for that ol' trick. So, I set the trap in position and went to bed thinking I'm gonna have a mouse mcmuffin next morning.
Needless to say, I was more than a little disappointed to see the trap was rejected and unsprung. No man, you gotta have real food to catch these devious f**ks. Ok, ok - so now I got a plan. I go dig in the fridge to find a suitable piece of cheese to set on the bait trigger thingie. I know mice like cheese. Again, I set the trap in place and stumble off to bed.
I open the sink door only to find that the cheese is gone and the trap is unsprung. "Cheap friggin' trap!", I says. Doesn't work worth a S**t!. Ahhrrgg, waitasec, I know what the problem is - not enough cheese. He's not banging on the trigger long enough to spring the latch. Ha! Ok, ok - so now I got a real plan. I sprinkle bits of cheese all on top and underneath the trigger. The longer he has to frig with the trap, the better the chances are he's going to get a spring sandwich. Once again, I slink off to bed hopeful this time I've got his number.
Next morning, I open the sink door. What fresh hell is this? Once again, I experience severe trauma - no mouse. I'm beginning to sense that I'm not dealing with an ordinary country mouse. I get a picture in my mind's eye the little creep was probably jumping up an down on the trigger just to piss me off. "Alright buster, you're ass is mine", I mutter.
I hump over to CT once again and buy some baited sticky pads. That night, I baited the spring trap with the cheese (luckily I got lots of that). I tucked the spring trap in the corner under the sink and made a little barracade with the sticky pads. Mouse has to cross over the pads to get the cheese. I cross my fingers and pray that mouse doesn't know how to use a pole vault. Off to bed I go.
I'm happy to report one less mouse lives in my house.
Please send condolences c/o Jabba.
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