I quite like mice.
I used to keep one when I was a kid. I called him Nonny. [a Nonny mouse? Geddit?]. He was all white and cute and friendly, up until he died when he ceased to be quite so cute.
When you live in the country then house and garden guests are to be expected. Badgers and foxes stray around outside while inside we have a grand household of spiders, woodlice, beetles and, yes, mice.
Some people see mice as dirty little creatures, and indeed they do have a tendency to poo, but who among us doesn't? It's only nature.
We have a mouse resident at the moment. He has been around for the last few weeks, and provided I remember to put all food away at night then he doesn't really bother me. I presume he buys his food down the village as there is precious little for him to rob here, and there is no sign of any poo so he must go outside for that too. He lives up in the ceiling cavity between the ceiling and the roof. I don't know how the fuck he gets in or out as there is no access whatsoever. I hear him scraping around up there and apart from keeping Penny amused we completely ignore him.
Last night he raided my little stash of packs of baccy.
The little fucker ripped open each pack and spread the contents all over the place. The whole stash was destroyed.
It's all out war now. The little cunt crossed the line so it's him or me. I will show no mercy. I have traps set up all over the place and Penny is to remain starved until he is caught. It's time she earned her keep anyway.
I didn't even know mice smoked?