Wild Things

One of girls who works in my building found a baby vole on the ground the other day.  It had been abandoned and she was looking for someone to raise it.  She said it was really cute.

In case you're wondering what a baby vole looks like, here's a picture.

Seriously?

There is nothing cute about a baby vole.  There is nothing cute about a baby rodent.  Period.

I don't have a problem with bugs...I can kill a spider with my fist, no problem.  I can deal with birds, and even snakes.  But rodents?

They slay me.

During an especially stressful time at work, a kind friend bought me a little Zen garden to place on my desk.  I liked making designs in the sand with the tiny rake...it worked.  It was relaxing. 

I wonder how much work I got done.

One morning I discovered more than sand in my Zen garden.  There was evidence of a rodent.

I got really stressed really fast.

We couldn't quite figure out where the intruder came from, though we suspected there was a hole in the wall behind a heavy filing cabinet.  We set a few traps in my office, but caught nothing.  We started noticing signs of it in other parts of our building; it seemed to have a nightly route scoped out.  Since it was frequenting the tops of desks, we surmised it must be pretty big.  Like, huge.

Double ugh.

Another coworker and I became obsessed with catching this monster.  First we tried humane traps, but it would eat the cheese or peanut butter and evade capture.  Finally, we set every type of trap we could find all over the office, including a sticky one behind my phone.

There was a long weekend.

I sat down at my desk on Monday morning and reached for my phone.  I'm pretty sure I was through dialing before I noticed the huge dead mouse stuck in the sticky trap behind it.  Even the memory makes me shudder. 

There was significant evidence to suggest it had been there most of the weekend...if you know what I mean.  I ran to the building next door to hide until my coworker arrived.

I wasn't touching that thing.

He finally came to my rescue, and just as I was showing him where the mouse was, it moved.

I screamed like a girl. 

He was very brave and took it outside.  What I didn't know is that he put it right next to my car door and when I left for lunch, it was waiting for me.

You've heard of the fight or flight response, right?  It is possible to do both at one time.

My evil coworker deserved what he got.

I guess it took awhile for the scratches and claw marks to heal.

I hear he likes his new job.