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Sometimes it's a 33 minute workout on the treadmill at the gym.  Other times, it's an at-home workout on the elliipmachine and an episode of Mr. Sunshine (which I watch only on Hulu and I keep wishing will get better but it doesn't and I'm all "awwww, Chandler"). But on rare occasions, my sweatabetes workouts take place in my kitchen.  While trying to wrangle in a teeny, brown field mouse named Cheesels.  (Pronounced "cheese-els."  As in "OMG there's Cheesels!")

Our house has a nice yard, and with it comes a bevy of critters.  We have squirrels that appear to be planning some kind of coup, dancing madly in the backyard and running at a break-neck speed with nuts in their cheeks.  We have the neighborhood cats who are sometimes on our back deck, making faces at our cats and flaunting their vast knowledge of the streets.  And apparently, we have adorable field mice that want to have breakfast with us every morning.

Or at least we have this one, really resilient field mouse that refuses to vacate the premises. 

Our first line of defense was our arsenal of cats.  Three cats, you'd think they'd tap their instincts and make quick work of our little Cheesels.  Nope.  The first time the mouse made an appearance, all three cats were lounging in another room playing Risk.  The second time, we actively put our most wily cat in the mouse's direct path, but Prussia simply licked her chops and strolled off. Our third attempt involved a humane mouse trap that had intentions to trap the mouse for a later, live release (but instead appeared to simply offer snacks to our squatter, and offered no actual 'trap').

But the fourth time Cheesels popped his little mousy head out was when Siah was on watch.  And Siah beat the mouse senseless. 

"Holy crap, it's like a mouse murder scene in here."  Fuzzy brown fur littered the floor.  "Surely this thing is dead now."

But nooooooo.  Because yesterday, as my mother was hanging out with BSparl and I, we heard this little scuttling sound from the kitchen.

"Mom, you stay here with the baby.  I'll go investigate.  I think it's Cheesels."

"Okay," she said.  (And I love that no one questions the fact that we've named our rodent nemesis.)

Do NOT eff with this mouse.  He will cut you.I slowly moved into the kitchen, broom in hand, to see Siah stalking something underneath the kitchen table.  Upon closer inspection, I saw our mouse friend, wielding whiskers and a switchblade.  And Siah looked positively elated with her new friend.

"Ahhhhhh!!  Ooooooh!!!!"  I yelled mostly unintelligible words and swatted madly at the mouse, who scurried away towards the stove.  

"Come back here!  Ahhh!  Get away!  Go outside oh my god get into the trap! Die!  Get out!  Siah! Kill this thing! Be a cat, damn it!"  I knew I was sending this mouse mixed signals, but I just wanted it the eff OUT of my house.

My mother came out of the baby's room, looking determined.  "Give me the broom.  You go in there with the baby.  I'll get this out."  She seemed ... strong.  Ready to battle the mouse.  So I handed her the broom and went in to comfort my startled, non-mouse-fearing baby girl.

What happened next was an awkward and loud dance of mother, daughter, mouse, and broom.  Yelling, "ooooh'ing," jumping on chairs and freaking out while trying to open doors to usher the mouse outside ... the calories burned must have been tremendous.  It was the most graceless but direct form of mousercising my kitchen has ever witnessed.

"Did we get him?"  we both said in unison, looking at the open door and not hearing any telltale squeaks.

"I think I shoved him out with the broom.  He's gone.  We're all set," my mother said, brandishing the broom like she was finishing a crusade.  We were soothed by our conviction that we'd indeed solved the problem.  The Dexcom wailed from the kitchen table, confirming that my mousercised sweatabetes was effective.  (Oh exercise, how I find you in the strangest of places.)

My mother headed home.  BSparl was snuggled and tucked into bed. Chris wasn't expected home for a few hours.  So I settled in at the kitchen table to finish some paperwork.


I heard the scuttling of little feet.  And I felt something staring at me. I turned around, slowly, to see Cheesels standing on the top of the stove, little paws raised in victory and holding my wallet.

I'll get you next time, Cheesels.  Next time.


d-con snap trap and a very small amount of cheese and pb. it's war.

LOL Cheesels! I love that pic!

I love this story!!!

Cute story! Our entire family enjoyed it and can't wait for the next edition of Cheesels adventure.

I used to Mousercise with Mickey on our record player... but I guess that works too! My family also doesn't question the fact that I've named the fruit bats that live in the eaves of our balcony, Batty, Snape and Voldemort.

We used to get mice in a previous house. One way we reduced the problem was to seal the hole around the sink outlet in the kitchen. We used that expanding foam. I'll bet you have a few of those holes in your exterior wall, a mouse can get through a teensy hole (like nickel sized). Good luck.

LOL...oh gosh that was too funny!

That is funny! At least you are getting your cardio in, lol. YOu need to go to Home Depot and buy a plastic OWL statue. We had a similar problem a few years ago and we tried different traps etc. But my husband came home with this owl, and I busted out laughing, but let me tell you, It WORKS. Try it. :)

This is hilarious! I love Mr. Sunshine, though. :) Dublin is not a street cat or farm cat either, so he is too well fed to be a good mouser. I do feel he is envious of the cats that hang out on the wall outside of our window.

Offf course you named it. Look, it's time to get Siah to a powerlifting class or something else I probably just made up. It's time to knock that mouse into the arms of his grandparents! Die, your freaking mouse! ::pant pant:: But aren't they so darned cute too?

I hate to tell you this, but common opinion in these parts is: if you see one mouse, you have a family of them. So, Siah may have gotten one. Mom may have shooed one out. You may just have seen Cheesels III

Good luck!

It's all fun and games --until he chews thru Tupperware to get to your chocolate chips! It's nothing but a snap trap at my house. We live in the country and have mouse problems from time to time. One good solution has been to go all around the exterior of the house, underneath the bottom board of the siding with caulking. That expanding foam works, too, but can be unsightly when it comes oozing out of said siding and dries like an ugly gob of mold...but I digress...

My husband saw a mouse jump off the bed in our spare bedroom last winter. Now -- nothing less than death will do.

I hate meeces to pieces!

Ours is called Bar Steward. For obvious reasons...

Mice? That's nothing! I grew up with ants and mice roaming freely around our house. Our latest pest was...a baby squirrel! No joke. It took a running leap off of my shoulder at 5:30 AM last year and landed on my curtains. My GOD that thing could jump! It scared the living daylights outta me, too!

And mice are CUTE!

Is BSparl talking?!?!???!??!!?!??!!!!! :D

Oh my god, so weird, we are being attacked by mice in our Boston apartment right now! I've never seen a mouse in there before and all of a sudden - mice. I HATE them! I do not find them cute. I've already torn apart the entire apartment. Tonight will be spent tearing apart the kitchen. Good luck in your hunt! Ugh.

Hello Kitties, your rations will be cut until this intruder is dealt with.

I'm an unapologetic species-ist, and the last mouse that dared show his diseased little face in this house got trapped with one of these:


It worked in 24 hours, and no one had to handle any remains.

You realize that Cheesels probably brought friends, right?


Years ago, we had a housefly that wouldn't leave, so we named him Sid, after Vicious. And that tells you how many years ago it was. Sid finally went the way of his namesake. Never could get him to shell out his share of the rent …

ohh how I hate mice in my house! Your story was a great visual. Thanks for putting a smile on my face.

Bahahahaha that's fantastic! I can just picture you all dancing about the kitchen! Hilarious! :D

I came home from work last night, looked out the window only to see.....Chomsky the Cat, playing tennis (volleyball?) with a stunned mouse. Literally: spiking it into the air and then swatting it down again. We have taken to calling him Killer now! :P

It is quite apparent that you are not going to get this cutie with the methods you are useing. And, as far as the cats go, to them it is an indoor toy. The only way to bait a trap is with a small dab of peanut butter placed on the trip pan of a snap trap. When they try to lick the PB the pan trips and the trap makes a noise something like a loud SNAP and you then you have 1 very dead mouse. They used to come in packs of four, set 2 of them as it sounds as though you have more than one in the house. By the way cats like peanut butter also, but the are somewhat smart and after getting pinched word will get around and they will leave the traps alone. All the humane live traps end up doing is to get you frustrated enough to go out and get a book on how to feed and care for your pet mouse!

You obviously haven't thought of this: Just get a tiny laptop, leave it in the kitchen, and point its browser to Sugar, Sugar. The next night, simply move the tiny laptop outside. All the mice will be so addicted to that game, they'll just follow the tiny laptop. Problem solved.

When we moved into our first home...we had a whole freakin' family of mice living in the basement. Our cat, Max cleared that family out in no time...it was like the killing fields...UGH. No mice in our new home.

Love the pic!

Yeah, what's with Mr. Sunshine. Only mildly entertaining. Yet I keep DVRing it.

We used to have a mouse that taunted me. He ran laps around the perimeter of the living room. And if I was on the couch watching TV, and I'm not exaggerating, he would run a lap, slowly walk the the middle of the room, LOOK AT ME AS IF TO SAY "HA, CAN'T CATCH ME," and run back to do another lap.

I outsmarted him.

I wedged a triangular-shaped mouse trap between the door jamb and a bookshelf and that night while doing his laps...HE GOT STUCK!

years ago we lived in a ancient farmhouse smack dab in the middle of a cornfield. we would live-trap the mice and when the bottom of a large outside-style trashcan was full of mice running around, we would take it a mile or so down the road and let them loose. we were doing this every single day for a while. needless to say, i reached an accord with mice - you stay out of my food, dishes and silverware, and i will live trap you. in this house, same rules applied, but needed to be modified to include the dishwasher. i do not like putting my cereal bowl away in the wee morning hours and being greeted by beady little eyes.

oh and try small amounts of peanut butter in the trap. too much and they can just lick it off without setting it off.

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