Like most other folks in the greater Capitol Hill area, the E Street Boys have got a pretty old house. That's all right; it's got character, charisma and a "Silence of the Lambs"-inspired basement. We've also got mice.
We noticed their presence as last summer turned to fall. The street was cold, our house was warm, and every evening, out of the corner of our eyes, we would spot a little scurrying houseguest. We figured it was just one, and a lady friend dubbed him Ralph.
Our opening salvo consisted of a shotgun, house-wide deployment of basic, hardware-store traps. These were initially a success; we took one four-legged homesteader out within 24 hours. Then within a few days, we got a second one.
But that was the end of our haul. The mice had caught on, and were avoiding them like the plague, no matter what bait we used. And it became clear that Ralph was more than just one mouse, as the incidence of mouse sightings didn't drop. In fact, it seemed to increase; the more they stuck around us, the less afraid they were. By February we had rodentia walking across coffee tables and jumping into radiators in plain sight.
Since little bastards refused to pay rent, we took a leaf out of Carl Spackler's book and declared war. This had to stop, and to quote one of our college professors, we needed to amp up the level of "violence interdependence." Time for some shock and awe.
That's where the Rat Zapper came in. While we didn't have rats (thank God) we did have enough of a mouse problem to bring in the heavy guns. Within 24 hours, the Zapper had picked off another one, and after a second kill a few days after that, we figured that our efforts had put the mice on the run. The blinking red "kill" light on the top of the Zapper stayed dark for weeks.
Then, in mid-March, something happened. One morning, I saw that we'd gotten one. And the next morning, another. And another. The roll continued for almost ten days. We'd gotten eleven mice down. We'd dump the bodies in the trash and before we could take it out, we'd have another one. The ratio started to space out a bit; it went up to almost a day and a half between some kills. But we just kept getting them.
Eventually, the streak ended at 16. Ever since, it's been quiet, and it's coincided with the return of warm weather to the District. So either we butchered the whole mouse population, or they've moved on to more comfortable outdoor climes.
But the mystery remains unsolved. What led to the sudden rash of mouse activity, and subsequent zappings? None of the variables were consistent. We'd move the trap to different locations on some nights; on others, it would stay in the same spot. We didn't bait it with anything new, or wash it off. The only thing that stayed the same was the regular ratio of kills; within 18 to 36 hours of one mouse going down, the next one would fall. Was it the end of winter and they were growing hungry? Were we zapping the rescuers, the rodents entrusted with the responsibility for leaving no mouse behind?
We may have killed them all, or a few may have survived and escaped into the warm spring weather. But if they return to our house, and expect shelter and food, they need to know one thing. We're coming for them. And hell's coming with us.
