This morning, I awoke to find the score had finally been settled: Me: 1, Recent Wee Mousie: 0. As in dead. I caught the dreadful little chump. He’s been tormenting me and avoiding my carefully rigged traps (peanut butter AND cheese!) for weeks. I got him. But something a little disturbing just happened.

Lying in the dark, I swear I just heard something determined and rampaging gallop across my apartment.

If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a jackrabbit. This was like a crazed herd of buffalo. Or at the very least an angry rodent out for blood. Mine. My blood. Why must I bunk with uninvited guests? Why must the dark be an actually scary place? How is it possible for a mouse to stampede? Was it a horse? Do you think it was a pony? And in the dark, why would it run so fast and loud? I thought they scampered on little mousie feet and made nary a sound! O Wee Mousie, just get the hell out of here already I’m so sick of your crap.

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