We have mice. Well, we don't, but our house does. And therefore, I guess, we do too.

I first learned about this fact a couple of days ago from my housemates. I'd seen isolated signs before, a dropping here and there, but figured that's basically par for the course. I'm not the sort of person who is easily freaked out by that kind of thing, so I chose to ignore it.

Apparently, however, the epidemic has been growing in scale. My housemates have become concerned about it, and when I saw the little black droppings scattered under our sink around the garbage can and compost bin, I became concerned too.

That was nothing, however, to the concern I felt when the refrigerator repairman came yesterday and pulled out the fridge to reveal a revolting mess of mouse droppings. I will spare you the details, but it involved piles of hard white things that I didn't realize until further investigation were dried-out mouse poop. That's all I will say.

From that point on, Mus musculus and I became mortal enemies. I did some googling and learned that the most effective method of control and prevention is to stop them getting into your house in the first place by blocking their entry holes. This page is very helpful, and recommends steel wool mixed with caulking compound.

So I determined to make my way to Home Hardware and buy the needed supplies. But in a funny twist of fate, Mus musculus and I ended up face to face last night before I had the chance.

I got home from my church cell group around 11:00pm, and heard a rustling coming from under the sink. Suspecting my new foe, I swung the cupboard door open. I saw nothing, and was about to close the door when the rustling happened again. Finally I spotted a small grey thing squirming in the bottom of the bag lining the wastebasket. He'd fallen in and gotten trapped.

Victoriously, I grabbed the bin and held it high before he could escape. I then cast about for what to do with my captive. Several solutions ran through my mind, none of which seemed practical, so I wandered downstairs, mouse-inhabited wastebasket in hand, to see if I could find something in the basement.

The wastebasket in the laundry room seemed like a good candidate, but when I tipped the kitchen wastebasket to dump him in, he leaped with uncanny grace and speed over the rim. Thankfully, he landed in a plastic bag full of bags we use for the laundry room waste. Aha, I thought, I've got you now, and picked it up to tip him into the laundry wastebasket.

He didn't really like this, and flung himself into the air with desperate and surprising force and height, quite nearly coming to the top of the wastebasket. I realized I had to do something quickly before he escaped. A heavy Cranium game box seemed like the right thing, so there he sat on the livingroom coffee table, in the wastebasket, with Cranium on top while I called some friends for advice.

They thought I should let him go, which is what I was inclined to do anyway. I'm not a fan of killing things, and besides, it's messy and inconvenient. So I traipsed several blocks to the nearest park with mousie in the wastebasket.

During this whole process, Mus musculus and I contemplated one another warily. He was very cute, as his species tend to be. His beady eyes blinked, his scoop ears twitched, he cleaned his face compulsively. His greyish-brownish fur was sleek and his tail was neat. It's a pity something that cute has to be such a nuisance. At the other end of the journey, I tipped him out of the wastebasket and he scuttled away across the grass, most likely quite relieved to be free of his white plastic prison.

Today, I made my journey to Home Hardware. The salesman promised me a solution which was quick, easy, cheap and effective, all of which sounded good. For about $8 I became the owner of some steel wool pads, drywall compound, and a putty knife. It was quite a satisfying feeling to stuff the steel wool into mousie's holes and seal them over with the compound, knowing I was hopefully keeping him out for good.

I'm sure Mus musculus probably has many devious ways of gaining entry to the house, most of which I have yet to discover. But one large step in our war has been made, and I feel confident that with enough work and vigilance, I'll win. Hopefully without actually having to kill too many of the enemy.