Last night, I got back from an art opening, turned on the kitchen light and a mouse (I hope) the size of my loafer ran across the counter top, dropped to the floor, continued across the room and disappeared under the stove.
I screamed (no meek “eek,” this time).
I was watching Judge (Madam, you’re an idiot) Judy on TV when out of the corner of my eye a brown furry-looking thing the size of my shoe scurried under the sofa I was lying on.
I’m hoping it’s really over between me and Arthur and Jack–the mice I named after old boyfriends so I wouldn’t feel bad if they got caught in sticky traps or had their necks snapped by the other kind…
I live on the fifth floor of a brick building near Harvard Square–and have mice. The building management has given me traps–but these being Cambridge mice, they appear to be outsmarting us. Can you please advise me on what it might cost to seal off a 750 Sq. foot apartment with a living room, bedroom, kitchen, hallway and bathroom?
This morning a woman came into the Charles Hotel while I was having coffee…with a dog that was only a little bigger than the mice in my apartment. I am trying to think of them as giant hairy cockroaches…but they are so cute and they cry. Eeeeeeek!
