We drove to our neighborhood Canadian Tire. Earl made a beeline for the glue boards. He picked one up and eyed it lustily, like a cat eyeing a delicious mouse.
"This one tells you how to dispose of them humanely," he said eagerly, putting great emphasis on the word humanely. "See, you just pour vegetable oil on them and they drop off."
"Yeah, after the poor mouse has chewed off his foot, we're supposed to dispose of him humanely? No!" I cried, snatching it from him and hastily stuffing it back on the rack.
We picked up three Victor live-catch mousetraps and PestChaser, the ultrasonic rodent repeller. Back home, I baited the traps with chunky peanut butter. I was wondering where to set them up when I heard a yell.
"There he is!"
I dashed into the family room in time to see a skinny, long tail whip about on the carpet behind the TV set. He was gone in a flash. Crouching, we surveyed the room for him. Then, I saw him in a dark corner behind a box. His beady little eyes gleamed at me.
"Oh!" I gasped, backing away.
Before I could say another word, he had disappeared behind knick-knacks that were leaning against the fireplace.
"He's over there!" I hollered, pointing in the direction of the fireplace.
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