So, there you are in a cabin in the woods. It is late and you are just about to fall asleep. You hear a noise and perk up! It is a scratching, gnawing, skitchety noise coming from inside the wall and after listening closely for a few minutes, you know what it is. It’s a mouse!!
And all Hell breaks loose! People scramble from their beds clutching modesty around them and start to panic. “Mice!! Head for the big house! Aaaarggghhh!”
And then there is the stampede up the steps to the house where the front door opens with rapid screaming of the details of the vermin invasion. The shocking, calamitous news is quickly transmitted to the sleepy, comfortable, warm, older folks who – probably because they have no grasp of the dangers involved – just don’t seem to get what all the fuss is about.
Now, bear in mind that this is the country and there are, in fact, a few mice around. Now and then. They are ‘country mice’ or field mice. The kind of mice Disney auditions for their movies. Maybe one, maybe a family lodge in a wall. Sometimes. Your average country mouse is two inches long, furtive, out-of-sight and easily frightened.
But not as easily as some of the guests!
We’ll deal with the mice today. No big deal. They don’t put up much of a fight. A little intimidation goes a long way. Poison closes any lingering resistance rather neatly. We will be little-mouse free in a day or two. The big chicken-mice will still be frightened but after a bit of Post Traumatic Stress counselling, they’ll be fine.
Nature is raw. Dangerous. Brutal. And savage in the extreme at times. Well, disturbing at the very least. And people have to do what people have to do. Even if that means running to mom. Shrieking and hiding from mice is a natural response and nothing to be ashamed of. There is nothing wrong with that. No one should feel embarrassed.
But you might want to cut down on the cheese intake a bit. Or pack some heat. There is no negotiating with mice. Face it, dudes, this is the wilderness.