Like David Attenborough in the kitchen …


I thought I was running a pretty tight ship these days when it comes to keeping the mice at bay …

Everything edible in tight-sealing plastic containers; or other wise stashed in mouse-proof cupboard, the door of which is always kept closed.

Remove paper from other cupboards, too.

Rubbish bin always closed when not in use.

Sweep floor after zealous cooking sessions.

But still, there have been telltale blurs of movement in the peripheral vision.

Gnawed packages when vigilance has momentarily lapsed.

And the telltale signs of poo.

While I’d previously thought the kitchen table was an unmousey haven where a more relaxed attitude could prevail, the critters have discovered the foodie potential there, as well.

So I line up the kitchen chairs against one of the walls – and well away from the table.

Surely that’d stop them from gaining access to the table?

That night, trying to get to sleep, I hear definite sounds of mousey voraciousness, ripping and attacking.

I get up to check the table’s contents. All seems OK, so it’s a mystery.

Back to bed and more fossicking sounds.

This time, I put on clothes and turn on the hall light so the kitchen is lit, but dimly so.

I grab a kitchen chair, sit and wait.

But not for long.

Within about five minutes, out they come.

Skittering across the floor.

And straight up the table legs.

Like tiny mountaineer monkeys.

I’m sitting a few feet away.

I feel like David Attenborough.

The unfolding spectacle is fascinating.

They’re kinda jittery, darting here and there on the table and the floor. The three of them seem preoccupied with their own missions, though they stop for a chat when crossing paths.

As a species, these common mice are obviously successful survivors.

But as individuals, the three at play before me seem dimwitted and myopic.

No wonder they’re such easy pickings for any feline with a semblance of patience!

One of them seems to have dibs on a particular plastic container.

It’s old and thin – I’ve had it for years, it being full of crackers at present.

His pals mosey over to see what he’s up to then go their own ways.

He hops on to it and heads straight for the hole he’s gnawed in the lid.


But instead of trying to widen the hole so he can get right inside and have a full-on cracker party, he merely sticks head through and desperately tries to fang any cracker within reach.

Arse up and tail twitching, it’s a comical sight.

Into the rubbish bin go the container and its cracker contents.

And the cardboard box of drinking chocolate that has a corner missing.

And the kiwifruit with a big hole in it.

They don’t seem to like bananas, pears or mandarins.

I’ve always assumed that because our house is so old and creaky, the mousey access points so plentiful, that the key to keeping rodents at bay is leaving them nothing to eat.

But I’ve stoppered up what seems to be the main access hole and things have improved dramatically, so maybe the house is more secure, mice-wise, than I figured.

7 thoughts on “Like David Attenborough in the kitchen …

  1. Come to my Tupperware party tonight Kenny – no more mouse problem!

    We have ongoing issues with mice too. Almost everything in the cupboard is in Tupperware so it’s impenetrable, but it’s still gross to find mice poo all over the containers. Unfortunately the only method that works for me (after trying numerous versions of humane traps, and nonhumane ones) is poison. I buy Talon ‘Mouse and Rat Killer’ (from Sims) which is warfarin which is an anticoagulant used in humans as a blood thinner after a stroke or heart attack. It’s such a high dose for the rodent though that they haemorrhage internally. Why I am telling you all of this is that I used to imagine them dying a slow, horrible death somewhere which I felt terribly guilty about, but not long ago I found one of the mice in the middle of the kitchen floor where it had just keeled over – which makes me hope it works very fast and they don’t feel much. Running across the kitchen one minute, dead the next. I keep a tray of the poison at the back of the bin cupboard where they congregate; every so often I see some poison crumbs in that area so I know new mice have moved in, but they don’t stick around for long.

    Very funny observation of the little buggers though! “The Secret Life of Mice.”


    • Ahh, I knew you were having a party and was actually interested. But I’m working tonight – besides I’d probably try to blog on it! 🙂 Seriously, keep me posted on the next one!

      I’m more into managing the mice problem and feel I’m pretty much on top of it. Poison? If I have to. But the Buddhist in me is deeply unhappy about the thought of it.

      It was really freaking cool watching them in action so close up, though!


  2. The other night we retired to the couch with the last of our Easter elegant rabbits only to find that a sneaky rodent has gnawed a decent size hold in the back of our poor bunny! To make things worse it was (we thought) safely stored on top of the fridge! It’s extremely frustrating when your safe havens become infiltrated by the enemy. Fortunately Tina was able to find a replacement bunny on sale at Coles Footscray for $1. Needless to say, the replacement was stored behind reinforced barricades!


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