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I have mice, and I'm delighted.
When I got back from Eastercon, I found a mouse in my kitchen. 20min of frantic man-versus-mouse manouvering, I had him inside a kitchen-towel tube with its ends blocked by pan scourers. I dug an old tank & water bottle out of the attic, some food from the airing cupboard, a jam jar filled with shredded loo paper for a nestbox, and since then, he's been living at the top of my stairs. For the first day or 2 he had to put up with kitty litter flooring. He's not too happy about his incarceration and legs it whenever I come in sight, but a month plus on, he comes out in daylight now and from the way that the water's going down and he now refuses fresh fruit, I think he's worked out how the water bottle works.
I've kept wild mice before. They're a bit like tropical fish: fun to look at but you can't handle them or interact with them. The jamjar as a nestbox is a planned move: when I need to feed him or clean his cage out, I merely approach the tank. He scarpers into the jamjar, I just pick it up and put the lid on (I've made lots of airholes) and set him aside. He cowers or peers out at me resentfully while I sort out his accomodation.
But now, I have more. Babies. 4 of them.
( Read more... )
When I got back from Eastercon, I found a mouse in my kitchen. 20min of frantic man-versus-mouse manouvering, I had him inside a kitchen-towel tube with its ends blocked by pan scourers. I dug an old tank & water bottle out of the attic, some food from the airing cupboard, a jam jar filled with shredded loo paper for a nestbox, and since then, he's been living at the top of my stairs. For the first day or 2 he had to put up with kitty litter flooring. He's not too happy about his incarceration and legs it whenever I come in sight, but a month plus on, he comes out in daylight now and from the way that the water's going down and he now refuses fresh fruit, I think he's worked out how the water bottle works.
I've kept wild mice before. They're a bit like tropical fish: fun to look at but you can't handle them or interact with them. The jamjar as a nestbox is a planned move: when I need to feed him or clean his cage out, I merely approach the tank. He scarpers into the jamjar, I just pick it up and put the lid on (I've made lots of airholes) and set him aside. He cowers or peers out at me resentfully while I sort out his accomodation.
But now, I have more. Babies. 4 of them.
( Read more... )
