Mouse wars......

If there is one thing this house rarely has, it's a dull moment and yesterday evening was no exception.

I was tidying up the kitchen pending Small Dog finishing her ablutions in the garden.  When she wants to come back inside, she lightly taps at the door.  Softly at first, then if there's no response she gets increasingly frantic, eventually using both front paws to try to dig her way in.

So when her first tap was more akin to the frenzied variety, I thought nothing of it and reached across to let her in.  As usual, she ran inside, but then she suddenly turned and raced back towards the door.  She had my full attention then, and I watched as she turned full-on terrior, front paws down on the floor, bum in the air, tail wagging furiously, pushing her nose into the gap behind the kitchen bin.

I called her off but she ran round the other side, determined to get at something.  Reluctant to pull the bin away from the wall (at this point I was fairly sure she was hunting a large spider) I called PP, who swiftly shooed SD out of the kitchen so that we could investigate further.

I peered into the gap but I couldn't see anything, so we slowly and carefully moved the bin a few inches, to reveal a little field mouse, sitting up on its haunches, clearly terrified.

I relayed this information to PP, and suggested that we try to trap it then put it back outside.
This is where things started to go awry.  The only thing I could think of that was close to hand, was a Tupperware container, but that entailed trying to find something suitable in the Tupperware Cupboard of Doom.  

Some minutes (and quite a bit of swearing later) I unearthed a lunchbox and steeled myself to quickly and smoothly pull out the bin while simultaneously placing the box over the mouse.  However, just as I was about to execute this damn fine plan, the mouse made a bid for freedom, suddenly leaping out from the behind the bin and racing across the floor, zig-zagging as it went.

Pandemonium ensued.

You know in Tom & Jerry cartoons, when the chase is on and the maid is up on a stool, yelling her head off, pulling up her petticoats....?

Well.... THAT thing.

I leapt back and screamed in surprise, PP was behind a chair, squealing like a banshee in the background, imploring me to toss a tea towel over it and Small Dog was throwing herself bodily at the kitchen door in an attempt to join the fray.

Meanwhile the mouse was doing a grand job of clearing all the obstacles in its path, like a little agility rodent, leaping and dodging, finally disappearing into the gap between the washing machine and corner kitchen unit.

Wild-eyed and panting, we both stood staring at the gap.  PP was all for pulling out the washing machine and subsequently dismantling the entire kitchen but I'd had more than enough excitement for one night so we barricaded the escapee in the kitchen and shut the door to keep Small Dog out.   

This morning, predictably, there was no sign of it, but SD spent a good while sniffing every inch of the floor, repeatedly returning to the bin.  We gingerly pulled it out, but of the mouse there was no sign.

We're going to get a humane mousetrap later today and see if we can catch it tonight.

What could possibly go wrong..... ?