Last week, every once in a while when playing with Nathan on the living room floor, I'd catch a whiff of something dead. It wasn't overpowering, and it would just be a whiff, then it would be gone. I immediately pegged the smell as a dead mouse, but thought it could be a piece of meat that Nathan had dropped behind the chair (even though I did a quick scan for such) or some spilled milk curdling in the sunshine.
Friday, the third day of whiffiness, I decided to do some investigation. I pulled the pantry cabinet forward away from the wall to peek behind it. Nothing. The only other place I could think of was behind the china hutch, which I can't move on my own. The thought did cross my mind that it could be a scrap of food that we'd fed the dog. Since the smell was just a whiff, and not overwhelming, I decided we'd give it a few more days. I started to do some tidying up before I put Nathan down for his nap and left for my cleaning job.
I picked up some blankets and the kitchen rugs that I'd thrown in front of the pantry cabinet early in the week and hadn't gotten around to doing anything with yet. And.... I found the culprit.
Told you I pegged it as a dead mouse.
I didn't investigate it too thoroughly, since Nathan was right there and apparently has a penchant for dead mice. I did what any good wife would do: I threw the rugs back on top of it, wrote a note for Paul to clean it up when he woke up, put Nathan down for his nap, and left.
It was so nice to come home to the floor mopped, the rugs washed, and no hint of dead mouse around.
I'm assuming the cat killed it; I remember hearing him clattering around one night while Paul was at work (freaked me out, because I thought it was someone walking through the dining room). But I'm surprised he didn't leave it in the middle of the living room floor for us to admire, like he usually does.
Anyhow.
Highly gross.
I'm about sick of the mice, and I'd like to know how they keep getting in our house. It's spring - shouldn't they be outside?
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