at the hardware store last night. Food goes inside, the little mouse goes inside, the door slams shut. You take the mouse out to a nice wooded area and he runs off to become acquainted with his new habitat. Your house has one less mouse and your wife is happy.
It was a good thought. My wife laughed when she saw the size of my traps. "That just won't do", she said. It's not actually a mouse, more of a rat, I am informed. His nose wouldn't fit in my humane mini-traps.
So, back to the store I go. "A rat", I tell the orange-smocked hardware man. He convinces me I don't want to "live trap" a rat. So I buy
one of these. I took it home and loaded it up with peanut butter (a gourment last supper for a rat), and I placed it along the wall in the garage. I checked it this morning. No rat. No peanut butter, either. Now I have a fatter, happier rat in the garage.
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