There is a mouse in my van.
Yes. You read that correctly. There is a mouse in my van.
And how do I know this, you may ask? Because I saw him. (In my world, all mice are hims.) I carry a Ziplock bag of dog treats in the van so when the dogs greet me in the evening, I can reward them for being excited to see me. Or maybe the excitement is due to the knowledge that treats are forthcoming. This may be a chicken and egg situation.
I think he was seeking refuge during the torrential downpour of Saturday, and finding the dog treats was an added bonus. When I got in the van Sunday to leave the house, he scurried out of the bag and under the console between the driver’s and passenger’s seats.
And I sat there thinking, “Now what . . .?”
If you’ve ever seen my van, aka my storage building on wheels, you know this mouse has hit the jackpot as far as places to hide are concerned. Or, heaven forbid, nest. I thought if I removed the dog treats he might relocate, but the condition of the bag once I replaced it (i.e., a ragged hole with a treat neatly gnawed upon) let me know I still have company.
As near as I can figure, I have three options: 1. allow the little feller to reside permanently within the confines of my vehicle, 2. empty everything out of said vehicle (and that’s a lot of everything) and see if I can find him (which, once found, begs the original question . . . “Now what?”), or 3. invest in sticky traps and bait them with dog treats (‘cause evidently, he likes dog treats and I’m not inclined to kill the mouse—catch and release is my preferred plan of action).
I settled on option number 3 which I have yet to implement because I have yet to buy sticky traps. So, yes. As of this writing there is still a mouse in my van. And yes. I am keenly aware that every time I get in, I have a passenger. But this whole episode has taught me several lessons . . .
1. Life is full of surprises, not all of which are pleasant.
2. Whatever the surprise, there are usually problems that accompany it.
3. How we deal with those problems is up to us.
4. Sometimes, solving those problems takes longer than we might hope or intend.
5. The end result isn’t always within our control . . . or what we want.
6. Everyone deserves a little kindness, compassion, and understanding—even a mouse.
7. I really need to clean out the van (and the closets, and the attic, and the cabinets . . .)
But the biggest lesson? One of which I was already very much aware, so this was just reinforcement. Being prepared for Life’s surprises is a good thing, but also especially difficult since surprises, by their very nature, never announce their pending arrival.
About the author: Lisa Shackelford Thomas is a fourth-generation member of a family that’s been in funeral service since 1926 and has worked with Shackelford Funeral Directors in Savannah, Tennessee for over 45 years. Any opinions expressed here are hers and hers alone and may or may not reflect the opinions of other Shackelford family members or staff.
