I walked the trap lines last night and today, but so far, no sign of the little mouse.
I feel like an old man in my dashing fedora, aided by a cat who couldn’t care less, engaged in a silent battle of wits with a mouse that could probably write a thesis on trap evasion. Our house has turned into a sitcom set, minus the laugh track, but with all the comedic elements of a chase that is nothing more than a big cat and mouse game.
He’s a sneaky little thing, but we’re not giving up. Sooner or later I’ll get that pesky wabbit! (oops, wrong cartoon)