We knew we had mice in the attic. They were burrowing little tunnels in our attic insulation and scritching around, doing their little mousy things. We even knew how they got there (evicted from the large floor speaker in the garage). But we couldn't set traps (cat or dogs might eat poison, or poisoned animals, and there's no way I'm listening ever again to a mouse squealing with a broken back only to have to kill it. Ew. Once was enough). Plus both of us had read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH and have anthropomorphized our cute little furry friends.

So we trimmed the tree branches away from the house and borrowed a trap from Heather, a fabulous neighbor on the other side of Cherrywood.

It only took a month. We even used the really good peanut butter. Sneaky little squeaky. I released it over in Austin Heights this morning (big field, running water, plenty of field for it to be a field mouse, not an attic mouse).

I had the suggestion to release it at WalMart because it would feel right at home, but not even I could do that to a mouse. Poor thing.