Just Kill the Mice

Mice are a scourge. They are awful. They carry diseases. They eat our stuff and then poop on our other stuff. Mice do not belong in my house, and as a matter of fact, there are too many of them outside, too. I’m no biologist, but common sense suggests we are overrun with mice because there aren’t enough natural predators. I live in an area with hawks, owls, snakes, and foxes, we STILL have too many mice.

That’s why we need to suck it up, gird our loins, and just kill them. If I had my way, live traps for mice would not exist. The reason the mouse’s natural predators are in decline is our fault. If humans are going to displace the wild animals that keep our rodent populations in check, then it’s our duty to step in and do their job for them.

We have to kill the mice.

“Oh, but they’re so cuuuuute!” Stop it. Mice are germy and carry serious illnesses like hantavirus. (Yes, hantavirus is rare, but it can be deadly.) Mice will not hesitate to poop on your silverware. But most importantly—and this is the crucial issue—they are INSTRUMENTAL in the spread of Lyme disease.

Different types of mice carry different risks, and the mice can be difficult to tell apart. I rarely see actual “house mice.” We have what I grew up calling “field mice,” which apparently is a non-technical term referring to deer mice and white-footed mice. But in my book, mouse poop is mouse poop. I’m not asking for ID if you invade my home. 

This won’t be my last post about mice. It’s a continual problem in both my farmhouse and my car; a little-known standard feature of the Pontiac Vibe is the vacancy sign and welcome mat for mice inside the dash. It’s an ongoing battle. For now, here is my fervent plea: no more trapping mice and releasing them in the wild to continue the Lyme disease cycle. For the common good of humanity, kill the bastards. DON'T “have a heart.” It’s your ecological duty.