Billy Joe Bob the mouse and the technicolor turds or Why my husband is my soulmate

We have a cat named Oscar. A couple of weeks ago we were greeted by Oscar coming through the doggie door with a mouse in his mouth. I managed to catch the mouse and get it out of the house. But last week I noticed something odd in the kitchen. It looked like mouse droppings but very different. When a condensation drop fell off the glass I was holding on to it – a vivid green color appeared.
It was a green mouse turd. A green mouse turd with a slightly metallic sheen at that.
Needless to say I was perplexed. What the heck kind of a mouse did I have? This had me immediately opening and emptying every drawer and cabinet in my kitchen. No other signs of the mutant mouse were appearing.
Was I wrong? Was it not a freakishly shimmery mouse turd?
Then I reached the junk drawer. You know the drawer. It is the one that stuff gets thrown in never to be thought of again. In this drawer I found evidence of my mutant mouse at last. It seems that we had managed to miss dear Oscar bringing in one of the little critters and it had found mouse heaven in the drawer.
It had also found a tube of green gel icing. And eaten all of it. Inside the drawer were also bright blue and purple mouse droppings (courtesy of other tubes of now demolished gel icing).
I now had answer for the metallic green mouse turds and could quit worrying about weird radiation leaks and freakishly mutated mice (which naturally led to thinking about other freakishly mutated household pests and had me slightly freaked out – I mean if it makes a mouse poop metallic green turds what would it do to a spider?)
I still had no actual mouse though. So I went to the store to get de-mousing stuff. I wasn’t comfortable with poison. I didn’t like the idea of running across a dead mouse in some random place or that I would be killing said mouse. There were some complicated mouse traps but I didn’t really want to spend $15 on a single mouse.
I ended up with sticky paper. It was cheap ($2 for 4 sheets) and seemed like a good compromise. I imagined the mouses feet getting stuck and then being able to pull it off and release it somewhere.
I drastically underestimated the stickyness of this sticky paper.  These sticky paper makers take this seriously.
So, i set out the little sticky pieces of paper and went to bed.
No mouse when I got up.
When I got home from work however – there was a mouse on the paper. And it was squeaking. And it wasn’t just its little feet that were stuck – it was the whole belly and part of its side.
I was sick to my stomach. That tiny little mouse – that looked more and more like Fievel (An American Tail – just go watch it) as the seconds past – was making me feel awful. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t make myself pick it up and I had no clue what to do with it if I did. I couldn’t see myself just throwing it inthe trash. Not with it all squeaking and “Somewhere out there” running through my head.
So I got my husband, who had just walked in. I told him this was a guy thing and to please deal with it because I couldn’t. I’m guessing the tears about to pour from my eyes got my point across because he picked up the paper and went out the garage with it.
But he stayed out there for quite a while. I couldn’t bring myself to go out there and see what was going on. When he finally came back in he had his hands cupped and asked if we had anything to put the mouse in.
My sweet husband had sat out in the alley and slowly disengaged the mouse from the mouse paper. He couldn’t just throw it in the trash or kill it either. So he now had in his hands a half bald very traumatized tiny mouse. I can’t begin to imagine how careful he must have been. And the mouse didn’t bite him or even really fight. It just seemed to have given up.
I got a large Country Crock butter tub and we placed the mouse in it. Then we crumbled up some honey graham crackers for it to eat and cut off 2/3 of a little dixie cup to give it a water dish. The little mouse was going to need to breathe and light is always nice so I cut a hole in the lid of the butter tub and taped a circle of clear plastic (from another takeout container) over it and then added air holes.
Instant mouse condo.
My stepson found this all quite odd and funny. His helpful addition was to name the mouse Billy Joe Bob.
Upon returning from dinner, I hadn’t felt like cooking after all the excitement, we a found a much improved mouse. Now we had to decide what to do with him. There was a brief discussion of keeping Billy Joe Bob but that was quickly discarded – thankfully. I mean – I would have gone to Petsmart and bought a little mouse cage and little mouse accouterments… but I really didn’t want to. I couldn’t kill the mouse but I still did’t want it in my house
In the end Graham was able to take him to a field and release him.

I threw away all of the remaining sticky paper.

And gave my husband a huge hug.

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