Mice love us. Or, rather, they love my pantry.
Every year around this time, we get several mousey visitors, and through their fatal attraction to peanut butter, they're usually all dispatched to that great mouse nest in the sky within a few days of their arrival.
But this year, after claiming two victims, our trap has been silent as a... well, you know. We've got a peanut butter laden trap next to every place this mouse has left his signature, and each day we're amazed to see it still empty, surrounded by fresh... er... sign.
Last night I actually saw the mouse walk over to a trap, sniff the peanut butter from afar, and back away.
The little bugger doesn't like peanut butter!
Clearly we've had a tactical failure in underestimating our enemy; he's a true foodie. This, of course, means war, as I don't want to sacrifice my good cheese for the refined palate of the vermin's last meal. But if that's what it takes to reclaim the territory of my pantry in the name of humanity, then let the siege begin.
