20th October 2011

Fun. Just went outside. It was dark. There was a mouse stuck in one of my cheap, 99p Store sticky traps. Young. About 2 months old. I unstuck it. It wiggled. I looked at it. It panicked. I got stuck to the trap. Stuck to the mouse. My hands got stuck together. I panicked. I couldn't get any of the glue from around its eye. Its legs were stuck together. Mum said "Eurg. *insert pained noise here* Kill it."

I said "Kill it?" She grunted. I said "I need a brick." She gestured vaguely with the dimly lit torch. I found a brick. Hands got stuck to brick. Hands got stuck to trousers. I unstuck, the laid the mouse onto the floor.

"If it runs, let it." Mum said. "Yeah?" I said. "Yeah, if it runs, you let it go. If not, kill it."

"Alright." We watched it struggle for a second, then fall. Good eye up, so it was looking at me.

"Nope. No, kill it." I looked up. "It's just gonna get stuck to the first thing it runs into. Kill it."

I wimpered. "It looks so sad. It's like it knows. Look! It does."

"No it doesn't. It's just scared." Yeah. That made me feel better.

I mushed it with the brick. I picked the brink up. Me and Mum grunted at the icky sight before us. I smushed the brick back down and ground the head. "I don't care if it's already dead, I'm not taking any chances."

I picked up the body. We looked at it. "You know what? I don't like sticky traps."

"No." Mum shook her head.

"They aren't even catching the rats. Mice aren't a problem, the rats are. Mice don't kill our chickens."





I don't like sticky traps. Not. At. All.