I hate meeses to pieces....

[Mike Stafford]

I am not exactly Mr. Jinks but I can honestly say I hate meeses to pieces as much as he did.

We have found evidence of a mouse or mice in our laundry room and also in the bottom of our pantry. Not exactly sure what they have found to eat but I am making a thorough search to see if I can find any evidence of gnawed food containers. I know they have to be eating something.

It has been many years since we have had a mouse in the house. The last time was probably 30 years ago while my ferocious Cairn Terrier Taffy was still alive. She was born and bred to kill meeses. Yeah, right!

Let me tell you a little story about my ferocious mouser. One evening after everyone had gone to bed I was still up watching TV and Taffy was doing what she does best which was to guard the couch in the den by sleeping on it. I only had one lamp on and the TV. I saw a furtive movement across the room where something darted out from behind the cabinets upon which the TV sat and went behind the picnic basket which we used to try and contain my son's toys. I started paying close attention and sure enough that little shadow ran across the carpet and up onto the hearth where it hid behind the fireplace tools. It inched its way out toward the front of the hearth and I could now see its beady little eyes glistening in the lamplight.

So I says to myself, "Self you need to sic that ferocious mouser defending the couch against all comers on that trespassing mouse." See Taffy was a Cairn Terrier and they were bred to be mousers. Cairn Terriers got their name because they excelled at routing their prey from hiding places in cairns (piles of rocks that were used to mark memorials, or as boundaries or landmarks). These little dogs enjoyed working in packs and were brave, tenacious and tough....and lest I forget ferocious.

I used to take the dog walking on the golf course and whenever I happened to see a rabbit I would sharply say "Look, look!" and immediately Taffy would come to attention. I would point in the direction of the rabbit and off she would go chasing the rabbit until either she caught it or it eluded her in the underbrush. She actually could run down rabbits on occasion and dispatch them with one bite behind the head. She truly was ferocious.

Well, I pointed toward the hearth and said, "Look, look!" and she bounded off the couch and sped toward the hearth. Almost immediately she saw that mouse and stopped in her tracks about a foot away from the little devil. She was rotating her head like dogs do when they are trying to figure out something and when she finally realized what she was looking at she started wagging her tail. Then she turned to look at me with a look on her face that I interpreted as, "Daddy, can I play with him? Just what I always wanted. My own little meece. I will pet him, and hug him and squeeze him and name him George." (By now you are probably keenly aware that I watched far too many cartoons as a child.)

While her attention was diverted towards me that little mouse made a dash for it and leapt off the hearth, ran behind the toy basket and behind the cabinets under the TV where he disappeared until I purchased a package of snap traps with which I brought about his capture and demise much to the chagrin of my ferocious Cairn Terrier.

So one of the chores I have to do today is after lunch with my woodworking buddies I will be heading toward the hardware store to purchase a package of snap traps. Enjoy your freedom meece as it is going to be short lived.

I sure miss my little dog.

Taffy the beast!

 

[Leo Voisine]

I just went through a mouse infestation. Mouse droppings EVERYWHERE. I think we are under control at least for the moment. Snoopy found some of them. I called an exterminator, but I am not convinced they did more than I did. They did give me knowledge on how do battle the critters.

I think one biggie is to vacuum up as much droppingg as possible.

I have lived here over 40 years and this was by far the worst I have seen.

 

[Dave Hawksford]

We kill'um with traps.

 

[Ryan Mooney]

I’ve had good luck with the “Victor tin cat” style traps when there’s a lot of mice as each trap can catch a bunch of them.

Some years ago we had two fairly young schnauzers. One of them was a pretty good hunter and the other at least liked to eat. Both had a habit of coming out of the sagebrush with a rabbit or quail “popper” if they found a nest and the hunter could actually catch adults as well.

So one day I found a nest of juvenile mice, old enough to be pretty active but young enough I managed to still scoop them all into a 5g bucket. I thought to myself “here’s a chance to get the pups on board with the mouse hunting strategy”. I wrangled the forces up and got us all out on our big open driveway and unleashed one of the little mice…. and… nothing. No interest at all. So I scoop the mouse back into the bucket and think for a bit. My theory was that they just needed to be shown the mice are edible…. so I head back to the house and grab some peanut butter. Back on the driveway I grab another mouse and liberally smear it with peanut butter and unleash the hunter on it. Well sure enough he runs right over, pins the mouse down, and very carefully licks the peanut butter off, then gently carries it over onto the lawn where he sets it down and give it a few nose pokes like “ok little buddy I got you cleaned up you can go along now”.

Slightly dumbfounded I decide to try the same trick on the one who likes to eat. Sure enough he goes “oh boy peanut butter” and gobbles the whole thing down.. then pauses… then looks at me with sort of a stunned look of horror “you tricked me, there was a mouse in that wasn’t there”. He very carefully examined everything I fed him for close to a year after that. I never did figure out how to get them to hunt mice, but they sure were good buddies otherwise.

They were better at hiking than mouse hunting I guess.

 

[Mike Stafford]

I have always liked miniature schnauzers. They are sturdy little dogs. I wanted to get one when we bought the Cairn but I was overruled.

 

[Charles Lent]

Female cats have been the best mousers for us, but our last cat died 5 years ago. Male cats usually can't be bothered with mouse chasing. The females are the best hunters.

Without a cat, I have been trapping the mice and have been using Victor traps. The old style with the metal trigger work well, but they came out with a new version that has a plastic trigger - don't buy the new style with the plastic trigger. They don't work. They can't be set without adjustment, and once adjusted so they will stay set, they don't always trip. The old style with the metal triggers rarely need adjustment out of the package, and work perfectly.

Then 2 years ago our "bug man" who keeps us safe from termites and other nasty crawling things, said that he could keep the mice from getting in by plugging the pipe and cable holes from under the house with stainless steel wool, so I had him do it. No mice at all since then.

We still have a dog, a female of hybrid of unknown combination, who my wife adopted from a flea market about 15 years ago. She is much like a border collie in shape and size but all reddish brown. She has a very nice personality and is a great door bell, but she would likely hold the flashlight for any burglar once he got in. Mice, she treats like other pets living with us.

Charley

 

[Vaughn McMillan]

Slightly tangential to the topic, but I recently read about a mom who was having trouble getting her teenage son to keep his room clean. He would let dirty dishes pile up in there for a week at a time and no amount of pleading or threatening seemed to change his behavior. Then she had the bright idea to scatter a few grains of black rice in strategic places around the room.

The kid kept his room spotless from then on.

 

[Brent Dowell]

Must be doing something right as far as rodent populations go right now. The previously feral cat we trapped and tamed used to catch 1 or 2 mice per year. He'd proudly carry it into the bedroom in the middle of the night loudly proclaiming his skill, to just kind of drop it and watch it run and hide under the furniture somewhere. Still haven't found a couple of those, lol.

Rocket our latest pup managed to catch and kill a rat outside in the broad daylight, and a mouse. I don't use the poisons on the rodents, as I'm afraid he'd get into it, or into a rodent that got into it, so I'm sure he somehow found them under a bush or something when I wasn't paying close enough attention.

These battery powered traps have worked the best for me though. They are pretty efficient with the batteries unlike some of the older rat zappers and do a pretty good job. I have had them on the back patio all winter and started to get quite a few rats/mice when I first put them out.

The rodents are down to a trickle now with maybe only getting one or 2 a week.

 

[Mike Stafford]

Female cats have been the best mousers for us, but our last cat died 5 years ago. Male cats usually can't be bothered with mouse chasing. The females are the best hunters.

Without a cat, I have been trapping the mice and have been using Victor traps. The old style with the metal trigger work well, but they came out with a new version that has a plastic trigger - don't buy the new style with the plastic trigger. They don't work. They can't be set without adjustment, and once adjusted so they will stay set, they don't always trip. The old style with the metal triggers rarely need adjustment out of the package, and work perfectly.

Then 2 years ago our "bug man" who keeps us safe from termites and other nasty crawling things, said that he could keep the mice from getting in by plugging the pipe and cable holes from under the house with stainless steel wool, so I had him do it. No mice at all since then.

We still have a dog, a female of hybrid of unknown combination, who my wife adopted from a flea market about 15 years ago. She is much like a border collie in shape and size but all reddish brown. She has a very nice personality and is a great door bell, but she would likely hold the flashlight for any burglar once he got in. Mice, she treats like other pets living with us.

Charley

We had a female Persian cat that was always bringing something dead to my mother. My mother was the only person in the house that this devil from hell would tolerate. I saw her bring mice, rats, lizards, snakes, moles, chipmunks (which distressed my mother terribly and even a few birds. Never saw her catch a bird but she sure brought them home.

She also attacked one of the neighbor's chickens to no avail as the chicken's feathers were sufficient protection. She was absolutely fearless. She would get on top of the refrigerator and slap its paws against your head as you walked by if you weren't paying attention. One time she jumped up on the kitchen table while the family was eating supper and landed right in the big bowl of mashed potatoes that were next to my father. He snatched her up by the scruff of her neck and opened the back door and threw that cat as far as he could. I was cheering because I hated that demon cat. In a few minutes it was at the back door mewling like she was the sweetest thing you have ever seen. Mama brought her in and let her sit in her lap after she cleaned the mashed potatoes and dirt from her paws.

The first time we took her to the beach to visit my aunt she encountered Basset hounds. My aunt had at least three at all times; they were her children. My family was out in the yard and my dad was in the chaise lounge. My aunt released the hounds and that Persian cat hid under the chaise lounge until one of those slobbering hounds came close and sniffed her out. When the dog went by she came out and pounced on the dog's back sinking all four clawed paws into its back and proceeded to ride that dog around the yard. The dog was yelping like it had been attacked by a mountain lion or something. My aunt became distressed as she loved those dogs better than she loved people and she was right cross about her dog getting scratched up. What was funny about the whole situation was that the cat probably weighed 8 pounds soaking wet and that Bassett hound weighed 60 or 70 pounds not including 10 pounds of slobber.

The cat finally got off the dog but none of those dogs came sniffing around her anymore.

Some day I will have to tell you about the time she brought a bat to my mother in the house and it was still alive. Then there was the time I brought a German shepherd puppy home for my baby sisters for Christmas. Let us just say that fluffy little devil cat tormented that puppy all the time until it grew up.

 

[Mike Stafford]

I decided that now was the time for you to read my story The Cat and the Bat which I wrote from memory of an event that happened over 50 years ago. It could be a little embellished but I swear most of it is true particularly anything that I wrote about our Persian cat, Robbie.

First, the stage must be set. This event happened when I was a little over sixteen years of age just after I got my driving license. I was in my bedroom which was carved out of the attic space above the two car garage that was on the opposite end of the house from the kitchen. I was in the process of dressing when I heard my mother’s cries for help.

Mom had just let the dog out. When she turned around, she found a dead bat in the kitchen by the door, with blood all over the linoleum. That’s when the screaming started and she called for me. Dad had already left for work. I responded telling her to stay away from the cat, who was the primary suspect in the killing, and to not let the dog in. Then she started yelling that it might not be dead. I asked if my presence was desired.

"Yes!!!" was the reply. I finished dressing very quickly.

As I dressed I told her to clap a plastic Tupperware bowl/container over the bat and ran down as quickly as I could. When I arrived, I found all done as I had asked. At this point she thought the bat might have just moved as a result of her trying to get its body under the plastic bowl. I switched her round container for a flat one with straight sides, at which point she opined that I was being somewhat paranoid. But I was not taking any chances. That proved to be a ‘Good Idea’.

As soon as I started sliding the lid of the container under the heretofore dead bat, it resurrected right before my eyes. It was like one of those horror movie scenes. It went from lying there motionless to fangs bared and wings flapping, with hisses and squeaks emanating from its open jaws. In excited tones I pointed this all out to my Mom, reminding her of why my paranoia was a good thing. But after all the histrionics the thing was finally trapped.

We queried Robbie the cat, the primary suspect, but she was not talking. We could tell though, from circumstantial evidence alone, that she was guilty. She was the only animal with the means (the dog was too old and almost never brought home dead animals), the motive, and the ability to carry out the deed. And, the bat was deposited where she left almost all of her kills, chipmunks, baby squirrels, birds and the like. But this led to another problem. Since this cat is essentially a minion of Satan himself, and not keen on rides in the car, and was probably out of date for her shots, we would need to carry her to the vet.

We called the vet, who requested we bring in both the cat and the bat. He also suggested that it would be best that the bat arrive dead and killed in a non-destructive manner. I took this to mean that I could not use the 12 gauge double barreled shotgun that my grandfather gave me. Mom said I could not kill Robbie the cat which is what I wanted to do.

So I decided to go outside in the pouring rain, and I do mean pouring, to dispose of the bat by carbon monoxide asphyxiation. If it had started raining even a little harder I would have been washed away. I put the bat in the Tupperware box with the lid partially open all in a plastic bag, and wrapped the open end of the bag around the exhaust pipe on my mom’s station wagon.

Of course despite the fact that we have a 2 ½ car garage above which I sleep the cars are parked outdoors in front of the garage. Our parking area is strategically positioned so that people driving on the main road could not easily see what was going on. This was taking place during the morning commuting hour. And what could look more questionable than their already questionable neighborhood juvenile delinquent out in the worst rain in months holding a plastic bag around a car’s tailpipe? Asphyxiating a bat is not a fast process. Bats are tough little buggers.

Mom, who is the only person that the demon cat from hell tolerates, managed to coax Robbie the cat into her carrier and we loaded the angry cat and dead bat into the station wagon. We made it to the vet with a VERY unhappy cat which from all counts threw up not less than five times on the way, and a really dead (this time) bat. We were ushered into an exam room fairly quickly, but then the demonic nature of Robbie the cat began to assert itself. She suffered through the vet’s physical search for wounds, and even endured having her temperature taken. (Hint: cats do not hold the thermometer under their tongues.) But then it came time for ‘The Shot’. The doctor left the room and returned with a pair of welder's gloves and an assistant. I would have recommended a suit of armor. The assistant donned the gloves and embraced, i.e. put a choke hold on the cat. Unholy, unearthly animalistic sounds came from Robbie the cat. She was a Persian and all her fur stood out making her look like a big gray cotton ball with legs, feet and claws, and each claw manifested itself about twice as long as one would have thought possible. Her head turned a complete 360 degrees, and rays of red light shot out of her eyes. I saw a glowing red 666 on her forehead and if what went on before wasn’t bad enough then they tried to get her back in her carrier.

I swear that cat grew two more legs. Her tail stuck straight out like a rod of iron. Her backbone became as flexible as a wet noodle, and as fast as they stuffed one end of that cat into the carrier, the other end reemerged, all teeth and claws. You would have thought she had grown another head on her back side as well. It must have taken five minutes to get her in there and slam the door shut. I am pretty sure the vet had to buy a new set of welder’s gloves

We went home and Mom carefully let the cat out of the carrier using the handle of a broom to open the latch. I stood behind her while she did it. The cat tore out of the carrier and zoomed into the living room where she hid under the couch. After a month or so the cat cooled off and we were more or less out of danger from her ire. That bat went on its way to be tested for rabies. The good news about that is I talked with a friend of my dad who was in pest control and had experience in bat remediation work (euphemism for ‘killing’) and he said the chances of a rabid bat were extremely remote. He said if it turns out the bat is positive, that is where the government will intrude. Robbie the cat will be quarantined for six months and our friendly local animal control officer would have to post our home with warning signs. As if a cat wearing a black, high collared cape wasn’t a dead giveaway already. We tried to find “Beware of the Cat” signs to no avail.

As it turned out neither the cat nor the bat tested positive. However the results were inconclusive on whether the cat was a vampire or not.

 

[David Johnson]

Mike that story made my day. I suppose you are not a friend to the kitties.
David

 

[Mike Stafford]

Mike that story made my day. I suppose you are not a friend to the kitties.
David

I don't have any specific animus toward cats. I am more of a dog person but I can tolerate cats. This cat was a special case. It hated every member of the family except my mother. She particularly hated my dog, a collie that looked like Lassie. Later I bought a German shepherd puppy for my little sisters and she hated it as soon as it walked in the door. Me, my three sisters. our dogs and my Dad were all fair game as far as she was concerned. She attacked us all if we invaded her space which was just about anywhere on our 37 acres. My mother was the only person she allowed to touch her.

I have never seen a cat with such a hateful disposition.

This is not a picture of the aforementioned demon from hell cat but it is a reasonable facsimile. If the cat in the picture had red eyes with red laser beams shooting out and some kind of dead animal in its mouth....

 

[Ryan Mooney]

We had a siamese who we called Sam (inventive naming being our strong spot) and was the biggest buddy cat you'd ever want, more dog than cat in that regard (and despite being twice it's size would play happily for hours a game of chase with my moms maltese). He was also an excellent hunter, which sometimes brought on a few live birds and such in the house. His most annoying habit though was that of acquiring mice and consuming every bit from the tail to the toenails to the teeth.... excepting one particularly gross and squishy part he was somehow able to disentangle bloodlessly from the rest of the recently deceased. This he would leave late at night in the path to the fridge in the kitchen where you were sure to step in it on your way to get a midnight drink.

But this story isn't about Sam, it's about my friend Ej's cat Cujo. Cujo was abnormally large, relatively friendly ... for a cat named Cujo.. but had the ability to take down pretty much any animal he put his mind to. My friend Ej is 6'8" tall and a svelte 400lbs mostly muscle (him and his brother are the source of probably half of the late 80's Idaho Sasquatch sightings - "there is no way a human could have a stride that long and feet that big.." .. oh.. it's just EJ and Weeb). I mention Ej's size to set the stage for what happens next. So one night Ej and his darling wife (slightly less than 1/3 his size overall) are sound asleep in bed when he awakes to an unholy thumping coming from the bathroom. Ej noot being a person to take such things lightly grabs his Lousiville slugger and heads in to "investigate". He pokes his head into the bathroom and the noise gets even louder from .. behind the shower curtain.. once he turns the light on. Tentatively reaching out he whips the shower curtain aside and is immediately overrun by a 2' tall jackrabbit. Cujo had somehow managed to drag a full grown Antelope Jack (which are no small rabbits weighing up to 9lbs and this was a big one) through the cat door.. across the house.. and then stashed it in the bathroom/bathtub presumably as a snack for later. A brief chase and only minor property damage later the rabbit was extricated from the house. A now thoroughly amped up Ej comes back in and there's Cujo.. gentling cleaning his paws on the couch.

Some cats...

 

[Ed Thomas]

Some cats...

We had a cat that would drag home groundhogs and offer them to my mother. Mother was not impressed.

 

[Ryan Mooney]

We had a cat that would drag home groundhogs and offer them to my mother. Mother was not impressed.

Our one Schnauzer once found half of a rabbit (presumably left by a coyote) and after grabbing it up he hightailed it over and dropped it on LOML's feet. Our best guess is that he figured if he shared it wouldn't get taken away (it did in fact get taken away). The next one was a hindquarter and I guess he figured he'd better eat it right there so he tried to swallow it whole... sideways... luckily it didn't even fit past his cheeks.

Another time I was out doing sprinkler pipe work and he was "helping out" a bit. I went back over to my pile of parts and tools and there was a dead bird stashed on top of it all (I guess he figured that's where we were putting stuff while we're working here sooo.).

 

[Charles Lent]

My sister and brother-in-law had a cat that had to have it's front paws de-clawed early in it's life because it was climbing the expensive drapes and couldn't be stopped. It was young enough when de-clawed that it figured out how to adapt to not having them. It still had hind toenails and one day while visiting my sister I looked out the window to see their cat climbing the cedar post that held their street number. The cat was climbing the post like a lineman for the power company, with front paws wrapped around the post and hind toenails providing the traction. The cat went up the post and then out on the arm that the street number sign hung from and laid down on it. About 1/2 hour later it climbed back down, again much like a lineman. This cat adapted to having no front toenails and made good use of it's paws anyway. It was funny to watch when the urge to scratch the furniture, because all it accomplished was to polish it and not scratch it, but it seemed to satisfy the mental need of scratching something.

This cat loved my sister, but avoided my brother-in-law. When it caught a mouse, mole, rabbit, bird, etc. it would bring it to my sister. Since this happened often, my sister learned quickly that the muffled meow at the door indicated that it had a fresh kill, or almost dead animal in it's teeth and my sister would refuse to open the door. After trying to get in for a while, the cat would then begin flinging the catch against the side of the house repeatedly, until my sister would come out and take the catch away from the cat and dispose of it. By then, there usually wasn't much left.

Charley

 

[allen levine]

i grew up in howard beach ny. we lived on the last street across from the weeds.

we had a golden retriever. never knew what he wouild be playing with when we let him out back. sometimes, hed have a dead rabbit, a load of field mice, hed leave them just alive enough that they would try to get away, but hed swat them between his paws until he got tired of playing with them.hes also caught a few pheasants.

where we live now, no fields, but we do get a field mouse now and then. nothing the past few years because my last neighbor, the one I hated, his wife took in stray cats and there were around 10 of them always around, so no more mice. now the new neighbor, has a cat, astro, and he likes to spend alot of time in my shop.sometimes he hides under a work bench, and usually runs out if I turn on a machine, a few times I locked him in the garage not knowing he was there. Id go in to use the bathroom, hed go into the shop, hide, and Id lock up when I came out. next morning there he was, and now he comes up to me, lets me pet him. he has kept the field mice under control, we havent seen any the past couple of years. I think he gets confused as to which house he lives in.....my biggest concern is that he hides under my car. and on one occasion I almost ran over him....now, alot of times, I yell out astro, and if nothing, I start the car and wait half a minute in case he is under there.

my wife sees no difference between a 2 inch field mouse and a 25 foot alligator or great white shark, she has the same fear. and snakes and spiders....she doesnt want to travel to nevada outside of the cities or to south dakota after seeing so many signs about poisonous snakes. I have a video of her in a full panic attack, screaming at me late at night because she found a cricket in our kitchen. I cant post it, it would be a instant divorce, but I would show it to anyone if they see us.....its just so funny youll laugh until you pass out.

 

[Mike Stafford]

My wife is so very brave until it comes time to dispose of the caught quarry. Then she turns squeamish and leaves the dirty deed to me.

When our little dog would come running up with a rabbit in her mouth my wife would go home. She could not bear to see it.

 

[Chuck Ellis]

Maggie, our part Jack Russel and what ever loved to bring squirrels and rabbits to the front porch ... she was kind enough to keep the skunks in her part of the yard.

As for the meeses, for a while I had a 4 or 5 foot black snake living under my shop... he kept the little varmits away and I guess the message got out so that after he left for other hunting ground, no problem with critters for last few years.

 

[Ryan Mooney]

she was kind enough to keep the skunks in her part of the yard.

Somehow our two managed to "score" a dead skunk. To this day I have no idea how, Our yard was fenced such as to be Schnauzer proof (which is a bit of a feat if you've never tried it.. the one although being only 6" tall could clear a 5' fence with ease and dig like a badger) so while technically it could have climbed in I have literally never seen another one in 17yrs at this house. They also both managed to avoid being sprayed... My best guess is some jerk on the road hit it and threw it over the fence. The little twerps had managed to hide it away buried underneath and behind a large rose bush in the upper tiers. They'd go out, perfume themselves by happily rolling in it, and then come back looking smug (only to be disappointed by yet-another vigorous bath). I spent two days looking for that thing until I managed to finally make them think I'd left the house to sneak back around and watch what they were doing when they got into it.

And while you might rightly image that partially decomposed skunk was pretty bad I can tell you it didn't even hold a candle to when they found the dead seal in the hot sun at the beach. THAT was something else.