No sign of the mouse. Mindy identified 3-4 places where she thinks he’s hiding, but there’s a lot of carpeting (so she really can’t hear him moving). She keeps looking at me as if to say, “I found him, now it’s your job to catch him.” Unfortunately, the 3 most likely spots involve moving bookcases, desks, and washing machines, which, at my age, is not gonna happen.
We baited the live traps, upstairs and down, with lots of interesting foods. Even put little water dishes next to each so he’d have another reason to go there.
And, so the wait continues…
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(The image here is supposed to be Mindy and me; I made it with an AI drawing program called Midjourney. Marge says my nose isn’t quite right, but I nailed the old and wrinkly part.)