A Mouse or A Muse (a.k.a. I Am Crazy Now)

So, it has been sub-arctic up here in Michigan.

That having been said, things are coming out of the woodwork. Quite literally. The c-c-c-old has driven mice into the crawl space under my livingroom. And other places, I fear. But blocking the crawlspace is a problem for when the snow melts.

On with my story....

A week ago Saturday night, the mice had been driving the dogs nuts making noises in the baseboard area. ClaraBelle and Ernie were obsessed with one particular corner, and as soon as I opened the bedroom door the next morning, ClaraBelle made a beeline for said corner.

I guess I'm a little crazy myself, because I was about to pick up the Tupperware pitcher that holds thistle seed for my bird feeder, which (ahh, the plot thickens) happened to be in that very same corner. I noticed the lid was slightly open. I looked inside, and I'm proud to say this, I didn't even scream when the mouse inside looked back.

So, with me looking horrified and the mouse looking horrified, I think we both were thinking the same thing:

Uh-oh, what do I do now?

But the ball was in my court, or should I say the mouse was.

I narrowed it down to three options.

1. Kill it.....nope. I apologize to boneless skinless chicken breasts in the grocery store aisle. No way.

2. Let it outside far from the house..... the windchill was 15 below. This would turn into option 1 pretty quickly.

3. Let it outside near the house....the equivalent of letting it into the living room. I'm crazy, not stupid. No way.

So, I chose option 4. I headed for WalMart and came back armed with a terrarium, water bottle, mouse food and bedding.

I've named her Agnes, and she lives in my office now. She is gray and white (must be the great-great granddaughter of someone's pet.) She is partial to blueberries and infinitesimal slices of apple.

I like to think she is an inspiration. A muse of a mouse to nudge me toward my writing goals.

Yeah, yeah. I know. I told you I was crazy.