Last week, I reported seeing a mouse in my house, to my horror and dismay. Today, I'm happy to report that I GOT THE BASTARD.
So I put him outside by my front door so that my friend/co-worker Mimi could come and free him because she said it's more humane. Since he's not a human, and he ate my dress, I don't care what happens to him, but I at least gave her the chance.
When she found out that freeing him meant pulling his glue-saturated skin off, she gave up and I put him in a trash bag. He's probably roasting right now in the 100-degree heat. I'm not laughing about this, but I don't care either.