Mouse in The Wall

I did not want anything to do with the killing and felt awful that my roll in the whole affair was that of the informant. I expected the trap to break its neck as it would have my finger, as this was an industrial strength mousetrap. Instead, the animal was left fighting for its life when the metal bar snapped off the latch. It was a large mouse (not a rat) and it managed to carry the trap under the drain pipe. The trap wedged between the pipes and the underside of the tub where the struggle to escape caught the attention of Phoenix and Diablo. I knew what happened and did not want any part of its end.

I called Joe, the landlord, to remove the mouse and kill it. Then he reset the trap. Although I provided the cheese for the new setup, every time I heard a noise in the bathroom I banged on the sheetrock or kicked the porcelain hoping to scare the potential victim from taking the bait.

The only noises I hear now are coming from the ceiling vents.

Last night the emotion caught in my throat. I felt guilty and sad about the death of the mouse in the wall. Worse than a Democrat. Geez, next thing I know I’ll dream up some story that the whole incident contributed to global warming.