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It’s a bad day to be a mouse

We have a mouse.

Wait. “We have a mouse” could be mistaken as a conscious decision on the part of the Offutt family to get into the car, drive down to the Rodent World superstore and bring home a little furry poop machine.

No.

This mouse is no pet. It is a criminal and will be dealt with harshly.

It’s not that a mouse is the worst pest to infiltrate a home. In June, a surveillance camera captured images of a black bear forcing its way into a Vail, Colo. apartment. The friendly fellow banged on the piano keys, then ate food from the refrigerator.

Seriously. That was in USA Today.

I grew up on a farm with fields surrounding our home, house motto, “Free Dinner,” so mice were common enough. Fine. I can deal with mice. They’re mammals. I like mammals, but that doesn’t mean it was welcome in Chez Offutt.

“I’m putting up traps,” I announced, a jar of peanut butter in one hand, steel springs of death in the other.

The complete story is in the Tuesday, Jan. 2, 2018 Richmond News.

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