What Do I Do For Fun in Cleveland?

I get this question sometimes. I wade through explanations of having no vehicle, trying to get outside, and really missing my ventures into nature. But, sometimes I have unexpected adventures; and those seem to be the most memorable. One such memory involves hanging out at the ER a few weeks ago and then staying up all night having philosophical conversations with Bridget at multiple Dunkin Doughnuts locations. However, I really hit my bliss when my friend Taylor found an unwelcome visitor in her apartment. This is why Taylor keeps a baseball bat beside her bed (it is Cleveland after all), but this visitor would need a different type of handling.

Once last fall Taylor was being terrified by a friendly little house spider who stared at her from her ceiling. I was called in to remove his little arachnid self. He fit quite nicely in a candle jar and was released outside. We of course were accidentally locked out of the apartment, but that's a different story.

No, this fellow was much more upsetting, for he, in all his brown softness, was a curious little mouse. Taylor was not a fan of him though. It did not matter that he was an attractive mouse with shapely ears and an amazing jumping talent. She simply wanted him out!

That's where I come into the story. My success with ridding her of the spider put me at the top of her list for "who to call when you have a mouse problem." I don't know why, but somehow being from Alaska wins you all sorts of ruggedness points from people thinking you enjoy desiccating cold wind to clearing homes of vermin. But, it's Ohio and there's nothing else to do except homework, so I was ready for anything.

She came to get me in her black mustang (pretty cool car for a lowly exterminator to be cruising in) and when we got into her sweltering apartment I had a snicker at what greeted my eyes:

She had first seen the mouse escapading across the carpet towards the closet the night before and so attempted to barricade him, but he snuck out and dashed for her room. I can only imagine the profanity filling the air, but she more carefully shoved dvd cases and binders in to assure that he could not get back out. So she slept in a chair that night and the next morning was when I got the phone call.

Once I understood what I was up against, I formulated my plan of capture. Requesting a plastic bin, I removed the impediments under the door to see if I could find the mouse. In the bedroom (Taylor refused to get closer than the other side of the hallway) I realized that he was likely hiding in the closet. I'm sure it's scary when you're 3 inches long to have an intruder who is 6'2" clad in brown rubber boots to suddenly come waltzing in, intent upon your being relocated.

As I was prodding through the contents of the closet out he shot from a hanging clothing wardrobe. I wondered how he had gotten up to such a high level, but as I've said, he was a skilled jumper. The dimensions of the closet made my work that much harder. I found a pink scarf and tied it across my nose and mouth (wouldn't want to chance Hantavirus) and set about imposing a small containment zone. I removed shoes, clothes, and purses from the closet. I finally cornered him and although he gave me a fright at how fast he scooted around (I totally screamed), I successfully corralled him into the bin and affixed the lid.

Another day, another mouse. So to those of you who wonder about the exciting life I lead, here's one more tale of thrilling magnificence. ;)

Me with my mouse friend. (He was released into the wilds of a Metropark)