August 19, 2008
Twice every year many of these mice make a concerted effort to get into my office building. In the spring, when the fields are planted, and again in the fall at harvest time when their happy dens get torn up by the machinery, I can always expect a flood of little furry refugees. What mouse wouldn't want to move in with an old duffer that has plenty of food and only sweeps up his crumbs three or four times a year?
For the last couple of weeks, however, I've been getting invaded by hordes of mice for no reason I can see. The fields are in corn this year, the weather is normal and there has been plenty of moisture. Why the little rascals should want to go looking for new digs now is beyond me. I have to check my trap line twice a day. I wonder if the mice know something I don't.
Speaking of trap lines reminded me of an old place that DadGum and I shared for a few years. It was an old one-room school house divided into rooms by wooden doors. We called it the Bayou and it had a relaxing "trap room":
Jeffro's Poor Farm post about his cat Rooster.