We have had a mice problem in our house ever since we moved in. Actually, we think it started well before we moved in, but don't tell the previous owners, my in-laws, that. I can't actually remember what kind of evidence first prompted me to think we had mice in our basement, but when we tore down all the walls down there during our renovation about 3 years ago and found 17 dead mice behind the old sheetrock, that pretty much cemented the idea in my brain.
Since then I have killed another 43 mice with my own two hands. Or, to be more precise, with the mouse traps I bought with my own two hands. If you aren't very good with math, I will take out my trusty calculator and tell you that 17 + 43 equals a total of 60 mice we have had in our house in the last 3-and-a-half years. To paraphrase my favorite philosopher Larry the Cable Guy, I don't care who you are, that's a lot of mice.
|Just one of sixty.|
If you were to inspect every inch of the outside of our house with a magnifying glass or a fine-tooth, mouse-sized comb, like we sort of have, you may think that there is only one place that they could be getting in: a small hole next to the back step that leads from the garage into the backyard. Knowing that, I recently filled the hole with enough steel wool to choke a rabid wolverine, which I am hoping is enough steel wool to keep the mice from getting in.
Proud of my accomplishment, I told the Wife that we probably won't be seeing any more mice any time soon. She didn't seem too certain of that, citing the fact that the pesky critters could already be in the house and we just haven't caught them yet. I know she could be right, and deep down I kind of hope she is. Killing mice is fun! I love this time of year!