It’s been confirmed. We have a mouse. Or mice… not really sure yet. How do I know? Well… that answer is three-fold.
For #1 I give you Zoe the hunter:
She’s not very good at it – but she tries. And yes, on a side note, if you need any kind of electronic cord, just ask me. I have them all. These were all stacked in that closet; it’s no wonder the little guy thought it would be a decent place to hide.
#2. Found a little pile of torn up yarn. And it wasn’t torn up like the puppies tear up yarn sometimes. It was in little pieces made into a nice little mouse bed. :/
#3. Yesterday morning, I put my foot in my boot only to find there was already something in it. Shook it out only to have a bunch of tiny pieces of dog food fly all over. Needless to say, Finn was excited… me, not so much.
This brought me back to the last time I had a mouse experience… circa 2009 in Grundy, VA:
Meet Mr. Grundy Mouse. Don’t let him fool you though – the only place those poison pellets went were to various other locations throughout my apartment. Here’s an excerpt from my old Xanga blog from that first mouse experience:
I guess that’s what I get for choosing to live next to big grassy fields. :/