Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse…

Well, it’s been a long time since I’ve incurred the wrath of PETA, but after last night’s brief appearance as “The Mousinator”, I may have to start looking over my shoulder again.

It’s the time of year that critters are looking for warm accommodations, and last night, Mrs. That Dan Guy went into the garage, and (much to her dismay) discovered one of those critters, scampering along the floor.

Mustering up all her pluck and will, she ran back inside the house, and insisted I come downstairs. Which I did, being well-trained in voice modulation (when your spouse has a voice as high as a mouse's, you can bet there may be one in the immediate vicinity).

Between gasps of air, she described the scenario – small, furry rodent, garage.

It’s been many years since I’ve had to assume my “Mousinator” identity, and I’m happy to report that my costume still fit. Not much of a stretch, what with it being a pair of long underwear, with an old pillowcase for a cape. Although, it may have stretched a bit more than it has in past years...

Whatever. The point is, I went about my cold-blooded business, and here is where the squeamish may want to exit (or anyone associated especially with PETA).

Wheels were set in motion that spelled doom for the uninvited meece. Plans had been laid that would bring an abrupt end to active rodentry.

Cheese, desired for centuries by discerning mice, would play a crucial role in ending Mickey Junior’s inspection of our garage…

Within mere minutes of implementing “Mousinator”, we had achieved success.

A brief service was held this morning, which coincidentally happens to be garbage pickup day.

We will remain vigilant…

Chow for now!!