You may or may not recall that I was plagued by mice a year or so ago.

Several folks had suggested stopping up the hole under the sink where the water pipe comes up with steel wool, and when I did that, it seemed to prevent the little critters from gaining entrance via that route.

But they still managed to come up the back of the gas range and wreak havoc on my kitchen counter.

Right on my kitchen counter!

So it occurred to me that what worked for the sink might work for the range, and I stuffed steel wool all around the back of the gas range.

I did that, of course, after I had successfully trapped and killed the little buggers that were harassing me. I just didn’t want any new creatures to find their way up the range.

And it seemed to work pretty well, although I stayed vigilant, of course.

Haven’t seen an unwanted visitor since putting down that steel wool.

Until Sunday morning.

When I came downstairs and turned on the light in the kitchen I spied a mouse scampering over the counter and back behind the range. It must have found a hole to get through that steel wool.

Anyway, I feel about mice that crawl around on my kitchen counter, pretty much the way Rebecca feels about rats. Even when she is about to receive an award for her actions on behalf of animal rights, that doesn’t stop her from letting her true feelings about rats come through.

So I laid a trap for it. Literally.

By that evening the trap had caught the bloody bastard.

Now I’m not a vengeful person, really I’m not. But I hope that the mouse had a tiny moment of clarity before it died, just a teeny tiny moment to realize that “Oops! I think I made a mistake in coming into this kitchen.” That’s all. Just a small moment to reflect on its error.