Mouse in House, 2
There are more mice in the house. Ed killed one while I was away, and now I'm finding mouse droppings in our cupboards (not where we keep the food, nothing THAT gross, but in the under sink cupboards of the kitchen and bathroom).
I think Brad's annoyed with me because of my refusal to deal with the situation, but the thing is, while I don't like the mice being in our house, and while I worry about the dogs getting sick from them, I can't bear the thought of killing them, of scooping up their rigid, furry-but-blood-soaked bodies and tossing them into the trash can.
(Trash because our recycling bin CLEARLY states, "No Dead Animals." Now, how many people do you suppose tried to recycle road kill before the recycling company had to go so far as to print the rules on the can?)
Just like I haven't been able to eat meat lately, because the thought of hurting an animal breaks my heart (I know, I know, that's the reason 6 YEAR OLDS become vegetarians), the thought of placing a trap for the "critters we dun' got" just does not sit well with me. So Brad will have to deal with it when he gets home.
This is my act of civil disobedience. Well, this and my refusal to wear open-toed shoes in the winter.