I had a little mouse drama today. There's been a mouse in my house stealing my dog's food and hiding it in random places. I've found Beneful treasure piles in my bathroom closet, behind the washing machine and in various cabinets. After witnessing him squeeze beneath the door and into the bathroom while I took a bath, I decided his days were numbered. I bought the standard Victor mouse traps, baited them with peanut butter and a little piece of dog food and hid them throughout the kitchen. Three days went by without any sign of a mouse until this morning. I woke up in a good mood, excited about Christmas shopping and my Lil Smokies that had been steeping in BBQ sauce and pineapple in the crock pot all night. I went into the kitchen to discover one of the traps missing, only to find it beneath my dog's raised food dish with our little culprit wedged in it. The bar didn't snap his neck and kill him instantly as intended, instead it landed in the middle of his head mildly retarding him. I carried the fiasco outside with a garden tool and released him. He stumbled around a bit, then I carried him to a secluded spot until I could figure out what to do. I called my mom who suggested to "bash his head in with a hammer". I couldn't do that, I had visions of mouse blood squirting into my eye. And after the whole infection control portion of cosmetology school, I'm frightened of all blood related things. By now, Katie had arrived to go Christmas shopping. I took her to the backyard to see my tard mouse. Again at a loss for any sort of constructive ideas, we left him. I decided that if he was still alive when I got home, I'd either make him a warm shoe box or start with the bashin'. When I returned home, I didn't have to do either. He was several feet away from his original spot, dead as a doornail and slightly wet for some reason. Mission accomplished...