A shrill scream left my mouth involuntarily as I saw a small, furry brown shape scurry across my dining room floor. “It’s a mouse!” I shouted with surprise to my husband. “Kill it! Get it out of the house!”
“You think I know how to kill a mouse?” my husband asked, bewildered.
“You’re the man. Who else is going to do it?”
My husband paused for a minute. Then he left the room. My feet were up from the floor on the couch where I was sitting, and my eyes were riveted towards the place where I last saw the shape. I did not want to let it out of my sight. If it was lost, I just know that it would scurry across my face in the middle of the night.
My husband came in with a jar, and after about ten minutes of my screaming “Get it! Get it!” with a darting mouse, we caught the mouse in a jar. I didn’t want to know how he killed it, so I didn’t ask. I just said, “Don’t let it loose in our backyard. He came in once; he’ll come in again.”
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Several weeks later, a squirrel was eating my tulips. I love red flowers, and those were my only red flowers. “Is it legal to shoot a BB gun in the backyard?” I asked my husband.
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I took 63 shots to get rid of my allergies. The worst of my allergies was cats. If you’ve read my book Growing Up as a Missionary Kid, you know that I broke out in hives because of a cat. My nose would always drip like a faucet around cats, and the allergic reaction would sometimes progress into full-blown asthma. I was hospitalized once because of asthma caused by allergies set off by a cat.
Then I went to an allergist as a teenager. Each time I got a skin test, I nearly fainted. My vision got dark around the edges, and right before I hit the floor, my vision would suddenly be clear and crisp. Someone had put some rubbing alcohol under my nose.
After the course of several years, getting a shot in my arm every week, then every month, I was theoretically no longer allergic to cats. Well, I had never really tested out this theory before…
(Stay tuned for Part 2…)
You would DIE in my house! First I have CATS, three of them! They bring mice in LIVING ones in to play with, they really are BIG ones maybe even field mice so they are kinda the size of rats.
I usually try to save them (i can’t stand the whole torture thing) so I put on my husbands work gloves( you know those hardware swede kind?) and then I catch them with my hands and let them loose in the yard! **cue in me singing Born free**
I also catch bugs in paper cups and let them free too!
I know I know I MIGHT need help!
Oh my goodness, you catch the mice with your bare hands?!? Wow… just, wow.
My husband caught a possum in the garage!!!! Guess what? He let it go. Yes, it’s been back many times and he’s never caught it again. lol
Ugh! If they catch it, at least they should let out the creature in the countryside!