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Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Rambi who wrote (5984)	1/9/1998 2:24:00 PM
From: Thomas C. White	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

penni? I have a new way for you to make a few shekels here. Can you loan me Blue for awhile? How much per week? I have been contending with a very persistent mouse for around two weeks. I was, at the outset, quite willing to live and let live, understanding that mice are really only doing the sort of mouse things that mice are driven by their genetic mousemakeup to do. But war was declared when the little bugger started rummaging in the pantry. Off I marched to get the D-Con, despite feeling a bit like a latter-day Lucretia Borgia. I am hoping that the little verminspawn decided to push up daisies either yesterday or last night, as finally after a number of days, nobody seems to be munching on the poison. If so, no telling where he decided to stage his little death rattle. Wish I had it on tape. But five days ago, the house alarm system inexplicably went off in the middle of the night, an alarm on the rear dining room windows, bells ringing and horns horning off all over the place, lights blinking, the alarm company calling the house to get the password and check on the reason (at least I know now that they actually do monitor the house in exchange for the $250 a year, I always wondered about that) -- there I am skulking and stalking around the house like a Neanderthal mammoth hunter at two in the morning brandishing a fearsome footlong kitchen knife, not having the slightest idea what I would do with it at need -- anyway, I could never reset the alarm, so there was something wrong with it. So last night had the repairman in, and guess what?? The villainous rodent had chewed through the alarm wire in the wall of the pantry and set off the alarm. Apparently they like that insulation stuff on wires for making NESTS. His final revenge? Cost me a clean one hundred dollars. A fifty cent piece of wire and $99.50 in service call labor. And to think I actually felt sorry for the little wretch.