How Six Weeks Of Traps Pushed Me To The "Serious" Option
I'm not dramatic about this stuff. I want that understood.
I found droppings behind the stove in late September. I bought snap traps like a normal person.
Six weeks. I caught four mice.
And there were always more.
I'd catch one Tuesday and find fresh droppings Sunday. I was checking traps before coffee every single morning. I was tired of it.
So I did what I thought was the grown-up thing.
I stopped messing around and put bait stations down. Under the sink, in the basement, along the wall in the utility room.
And for four days it was the best decision I'd ever made.
The scratching in the wall by my desk the sound I'd been listening to for six weeks just stopped.
I slept through the night. I told my sister it was finally over.
Day Four: A Smell I Couldn't Place
It started faint. Just in the hallway, and only in the afternoon when the sun hit that side of the house.
I thought something had gone off in the trash.
Day five it was in the hallway all day.
Day six it was in my office.
Day seven my husband walked in the door and said "what IS that?"
Day eight I stopped being able to eat lunch at my desk.
Day nine I was standing in the hallway with my face against the wall, moving six inches at a time, trying to figure out which side of the drywall it was on.
I found the spot. Right about hip height, next to the doorframe.
And then I just stood there. Because even knowing exactly where it was, there was nothing I could do.
I wasn't going to cut open my hallway wall.
Then, about a week later, the flies came.