This is NOT a Mouse House!

I have a small acreage in the country that I use as a retreat from all the noise, confusion and insanity of the City where I live. I hope to move there permanently at some point, but for now I get up there only about once a month. It's a nice place. I think so, and so do the field mice.

When I would arrive at my little house in the country, the first thing I would see on opening the door is mouse droppings all around the walls. The field mice would chew through the weather stripping underneath the door from the garage into the house. They got in, ran around and left a mess. Often they would bring food in with them, pecans, acorns, etc., and leave empty shells everywhere. Even worse, once they got in, they couldn't find their way out again. Since there was no food or water for them in the house, I would find little smelly, furry, desiccated, dead mice right in the middle of the floor or off in some closet.

I went outside and told the mice, "Hey, this is not a Mouse House! You guys need to stay outside." But they don't listen very well. I also tried to block the door so they couldn't get in, but it didn't always work. The final straw came when I found a mouse had chewed up a nice hand-knitted house coat my mother had made. That's it; no more mice!

I bought some poison and put it in the garage. That worked. The mice didn't get into the house and mess it up as long as there was some poison out in the garage. I don't like poisoning mice, but they won't listen, they won't stay out of the house, and they won't leave my stuff alone. They just end up killing themselves, so I guess it's better to kill them quickly with poison instead of having them die from dehydration and starvation.

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