I remember when this movie came out. I clamoured like a ten-year-old to go see it in the theatre. And I was not disappointed. Christopher Walken was an excellent exterminator and the silliness of the plot kept me giggling through the whole flick.
Well, last night when we got home late from work, Jen's mother indicated that there was a mouse out and about. Indeed, Jewely (the cat), had a keen eye out and was intently watching the corner cabinet ready to pounce at any moment. (Apparently, she'd been in that position of a couple of hours.) I moved the cabinet forward and as expected - no mouse. Much to Jewely's dismay, of course. I think she's got a bit to learn in the mousing department. She often stalks invisible mice in various corners that only she's convinced are there.
So - we figured that the mouse was probably another figment of Jewely's imagination and forgot about it. That is until Jen opened the oven drawer for a pan. Eek! There's the little beastie.
Out came all of the pans and trays until only the mousey was left huddling in the corner. I was ready with my bowl to catch it in. But she (later pictures confirms this sexing of the mouse) was a quick little bugger and successfully avoided my attempts at pinning her under the bowl. After a minute or so of running around the oven drawer (very much to Mira's delight), the mouse jumped out the back and hid in the corner behind the stove. On to stage two of the mouse hunt...
Out came the broom handle, cat toy stick and flashlight in attempts to root the little bugger out of the corner. Soon we had the oven drawer removed and watched as the mouse evaded capture and scurried from one corner to the next. I don't think the under-oven area had been cleaned for years as there was quite a collection of various small items. And cat fur - lots of it. During our poking around, we were startled by another large furry lump with a tail hiding in the corner. Ahhh - is that a rat? A quick poke ensured it wasn't wiggling and upon removal, Jewely's mouse toy once again saw the light of day.
Meanwhile, our prey du soir had nimbly climbed up into the oven wall. Alright - enough's enough. I pulled the whole damn oven out of the wall and began investigating how to remove the wall panel in order to see were the fiend went to. At the same time, Jen was poking the stick into various oven holes to try and root the thing out. After lifting the top of the stove up, I removed the subpanel of the range. There she was, cowering between the layers of insulation. Immediately she ran to the back and climbed up into the instrument panel of the stove. Damn it - on to phase three...
After a few vain attempts to stick screwdriver blades into the panel, I removed all of the screws holding the rear panel of the oven on. (Please visualize the kitchen with all kinds of pots and pans and oven panels laying everywhere, with me and Jen poking the oven with sticks, and Mira looking on continually asking if we see the mouse yet -- then you'll have an idea of the hilarity of the situation.) Finally - there's miss mousey - cuddled into a ball in the farthest reach of the oven internals. With no where left to hide, she made the leap-of-life to the floor and ran under the litter box. On to phase four...
Finally! No more oven adventures. We left the mouse hiding in her new corner for the mean time and blocked of all access to the stove with various cookie sheets and oven panels. After forming a baricade between us and the rest of the kitchen, I started removing litter-box parts to uncover her hiding spot. Once again, she was cuddled in the corner. With no where to run and all exits blocked, she made one last ditch dash across the kitchen floor. This time I was ready with the bowl. Slam! Got her.
After two hours taking the oven apart, our querry was in the bowl and ready for relocation outside in the woods. (There'd be no mouse-squishing with Mira's innocent eyes overseeing the operation. Not that I'd want to end the cute little thing's life anyway.) So after we'd snapped the accompanying photos, I carried her outside and released her to fend off the night in the woods behind the house. Given the opportunity of having the oven pulled out, we commenced the operation by vacuuming and scrubbing the floor filth from the corners and put the oven back together.
And where was Jewely in all this? Believe me, she was there constantly meowing and whenever possible, creeping under the oven to investigate. We only moved her out of the way for the final capture. Better luck next time, ol' girl.
These creatures you call mice, you see, they are not quite as they appear. They are merely the protrusion into our dimension of vastly hyperintelligent pandimensional beings. THE WHOLE BUSINESS WITH THE CHEESE AND SQUEAKING IS JUST A FRONT. - Douglas Adams