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I got to work the other morning just in time to see the Pumpkin Drop which happens in the field next door. There is something immensely satisfying about seeing a giant pumpkin falling 160 feet onto an unsuspecting car. Gotta love small town Maine.

So, yesterday I am heating up some soup for lunch and I look over and there is a large brown mouse with a long black tail scrabbling about on the floor about two feet away from me, right out in the open. I give a little ladylike shriek (yeah right) and jump back and he has no reaction. I practically leap over him to get out of the kitchen and he pays no attention. What to do? I put the dogs outside. And, I call Modern Pest Control. I mean, something is not right with him and I don't want any part of it. He crawls under the kitchen table and I can't see him anymore.
So, Modern Pest Control comes out and finds him and he has expired and they take him away. And, it is my fault. I killed him. Since I didn't want a repeat of last spring when I opened the cottage and found a nest in my underwear drawer, I had them put "rodent stations" around the house this year. So, that mouse was poisoned and it is my fault. And he came in the house to make sure I knew it.

And, no I didn't have them take away the poison traps. But I feel guilty about it.