This morning I went to the basement to do some laundry and heard a scuffle in a hole of one of the cinder blocks propping up my parent's water heater. It was a mouse trap. It had been set off earlier in the morning, but whatever it had caught was clearly still alive and trying to escape. So what did I do? I did what any rational person would do, I ran upstairs to the kitchen, got an oven mit to protect my danty hand (in case whatever it was that was trapped was angry and bitey), and went back downstairs to see what was caught.
A part of me was expecting to see an unfortunate mouse, now a paraplegic with a broken back needing me to put it out of its misery. However, what I found instead was a traumatized mouse with an injured tail.
So I took him outside to release him back into the wild, but only after I took a few pictures of it in its little predicament.
Here is another picture of him scared and afraid.
And then it gave me, what seems to be, a "fuck you" facial experssion, so I thought it a good time to release the little guy.
So I released him into an open field where I'm sure it became a tasty meal for a large bird with talons but who knows, lets hope for the best. Afterwards, my dad yelled at me because he found out that I was using an oven mit during this whole ordeal and said "You know we serve food with those, right?" In retrospect, perhaps an oven mit was a poor choice....
