Henry and I make a good team.
I was awakened this morning by: “Damn, there is another mouse in the house!”
The mouse retired (or rather hid). My son insisted that he snug under his bed. Lothar and I doubted it, because the space he could have used was incredibly narrow. While the two men were still arguing, I saw that yes, this mouse could make itself almost as flat as a sheet of paper. And no, it wasn’t under the bed anymore but clung to the wall behind a mover’s box. Henry saw it too, scratched at it and mousey (who really was a shrew*) ran down the wall, out of the room and hit – of all things! – behind Henry’s cat loo in the guest toilet. I closed the door and Henry and I had five minutes of fun (I don’t think the shrew had much fun) until I managed to capture it in plastic bowl and covered it with a dustpan.
Lothar did the last bit and showed the shrew the way out, while Henry had a liver stick, and we highfived, Henry and I, that is.
* The fact that Henry brings shrews home to play kind of explains why the mousetrap baited with Nutella doesn’t work, as they are insectivores.
** Yeah, oh yeah! I can eat the whole glass of Nutella all by myself now!