Chekov vs. Mice - the insurgency spreads

As an informed bunch, I appreciate that this blog’s visitors expect to read about crucial geo-political matters of the day. In that spirit, I feel bound to offer an update on my ongoing struggle with mice, unfolding in the former redoubt of the South Belfast dwelling house in which I live.

More forensic readers amongst you will have noted that I refer to ‘mice’ as opposed to ‘a mouse’, because the insurgency has rather gained momentum. My response has been a security crackdown, in order to rock this proliferation of new rodent movements and establish unequivocally that overt displays of mousiness will not be without consequences.

You will remember that from its traditional heartlands of the chimney breast and fuse box, my original enemy had been sighted in less familiar territory under the settee. My response was to remilitarise this area, deploying a weapon of mass destruction, aka mouse and rat poison. The enemy duly ate the poison, engineering his own end through questionable dietary habits.

Whether the poison had weakened and confused my foe, or whether already the original movement had disseminated its seed of terror, one small black mammal had been cleanly dispatched by my armed forces, its back justly snapped in the mouth of a trap. I was elated by this development and, had I been in possession of an assault rifle, I might have capered around the borderlands of the back garden, drunkenly loosing celebratory volleys into the night air.

Instead I afforded the mouse a dignity in death which its deeds in life did not necessarily justify. I wrapped it in a pair of bin bags and interred it in the wheelie-bin with minimum ceremony.

Such movements as this rodent represents perpetuate themselves through a cult of martyrdom and self-pity. Despite the fact that it brought about its own demise by disregarding law and order in my living room and indulging in all manner of prohibited activity, despite its death being directly resultant of its own nutritional choices, other similar miscreants have been sighted attempting to emulate their predecessor.

Indeed, further incursions in previously orderly parts of the house have been reported. In particular, inhospitable terrain behind the fridge and under some of the kitchen units has allowed renegade mice to perform sorties deep into respectable areas of the kitchen. Regrettably, I have been forced to increase security over the entire downstairs region, planting poison and traps over a swathe of territory. This creates expense for law abiding residents of the house and news of mouse incursions has now begun to discourage less resolute prospective visitors. It is a situation which cannot be allowed to continue.

Last night I watched another animal gorge himself repeatedly on a feast of death. This weekend he will suffer his demise, somewhere within the lawless hinterlands of mousey strength. I will remain resolute until he and his kind realise that their cause is useless, their methods unacceptable and they desist their campaign in its entirety.