So the mouse got out, again. He's bigger and faster than the last time he escaped, and he's a fantastic--fantastic in every sense of the word--jumper. This is the third time he's gotten free. The first time was just a few days after I found him. I was able to catch him because he was young and slow and underdeveloped. I blogged about the second time he got loose. I snagged him in a live-catch mouse trap a few days after the break-out. He wasn't big enough to climb and I was able to keep him quarantined in one room of the apartment. The problem this time is that he's fully developed, now.
I'm not sure that he can go vertical, but he can climb the sloped pipes--I've seen it. I've also seen him go into the walls, which means it will be harder to confine him to one room. Which means he can probably find his way into the other units. It means that he'll probably be able to find food and water on his own and not have to bother with the peanut butter smeared Saltine in the live-catch traps. Can he remember being caught the last time? Has he figured out the ways of the trap?
I shit you not, he just ran along the edge of the floor, against the wall, and stopped to look at me. Then he hopped up into the heater. The little shit.
Is it wrong that part of me wants him gone, out of here, out of my life? I had thought that he represented something meaningful. That he was a symbol, proof that I can't handle the easiest of tasks. But now I think he's me in mouse form. He's not happy with his current situation, he doesn't care enough about those who care about him, and he pisses all over you if you try to help him out. When I spot him scuttling around the edge of the room(s) and try to snatch him up, he evades me but doesn't always disappear. Like it's some kind of game. It's all about him.
I was contemplating setting him free the last time I caught him. But I decided not to because he couldn't climb, he was dependent on me for water and food, and I had seen something on Valim Drive that made me think of his fate in the wild.
I was walking down the hill from school a few days after I had gotten him back the last time. A hawk, or some huge bird that looked like a hawk, swooped down and plucked a chipmunk off the sidewalk. This happened about twenty yards away from me. I had initially thought that it was pretty cool, like I had just experienced the nature channel in person. But during the hawk's ascent, I could hear the chipmunk screeching while in the grasp of that bird's talons. It was kind of creepy, kind of sad. I didn't really want that to happen to my mouse.
But now the mouse can climb, though the jury's still out on whether he can go vertical or not. I feel as though he can find food and water, no problem. But how would he do against the elements? It just snowed last Friday. How will he do against predators? His primary line of defense is to piss and shit himself. I know he doesn't want to be in his critter keeper, but I really do think he wants to be in my apartment. So this is my question: if/when I catch the mouse, do I take him to a wooded area and let him go? Or should I keep him?
7 comments:
Well, here's something to consider. You've raised him. Sure, he can find his own food and water, most likely, but he has no idea of what happens in the wild. I bet he'd be fine as an apartment rat, one that hangs around one building. But if you let him go in the woods, he would probably just drown in his own piss.
By the way, I think you have what they call empty nest syndrome.
I want you to keep him so you keep writing about him.
I say you put him in the sewer. Then he can find his way to New York City and mingle with those beaver-sized Brooklyn rats. I had a turtle once, when I was a kid, he was a real badass. I put him in a lake because he didn't like to be in the tank. When I freed him, he kind of turned his head back to look at me... then he dove to the bottom, and I never saw him again. That was a good release story. Then again, my friend who is a vet student went to this Falcon release party once, and the falcon got really pissed when the guys tried to let him go. He kept getting back into his cage. Finally, after they shoved him out about ten times, he flew up and attacked a sparrow or a robin or some other little bird like that. So, there's always that.
Keep him, but quit letting him escape. You gotta think of that cage as San Quentin--maximum security.
I finally caught him last night. The escapes happen during cage cleanings. I transfer him into a Gladware container that's big enough for him; the problem is when I try to pick him up to place him back into the critter keeper, he runs up my arm and leaps to the floor. I'm thinking about making future transfers in the bathtub so there's nowhere for him to run.
I think he needs a nicer cage if you're going to keep him.
Keep him! You're good for each other, and I love hearing about his escapades.
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