Of Mice and Nate...

WARNING: Some images in this post may be considered graphic, offensive, or simply make you say, "gross."

Back in October, Vicki and I were forced to move for the second time in less than a year. We loved our little home in Millville, Utah, but the owners had decided to sell the house and the new owners opted to live upstairs, where we were, rather than downstairs where they originally told us they planned to.

Vicki and I were skeptical that they really would prefer to live downstairs so as soon as we knew they were interested in buying we started the search for a place to relocate. Over the last five years, we have developed a pretty efficient and accurate system for finding places to rent, but we had only two weeks or so to find a place that met our standards. On top of that Vicki was seven months pregnant and our housing needs were increasing by one.

After lots of searching, we settled (notice the emphasis) for a three-bedroom two-bath house in Hyrum. It was the only one of the options we both thought met our needs, even though it was well above what we felt we should pay for rent (we have never paid more than $600/month in rent and utilities 'til now).

We had a lot of help from friends and family (thanks) and moved in on October 15th. Two weeks later we realized we weren't alone.

I had left an unfinished cup of 7up or Sprite— don't remember exactly which one of the clear lemon-lime libations it was— out on the counter next to the fridge after a night of gaming (PS3). It was the next day that Vicki, whilst reaching for something in the cabinets above bumped the cup with her baby bump and knocked it over, spilling its contents to the floor and under the fridge.

It was one of those moments where a pregnant woman realizes just how pregnant they are and that their fifth appendage can be dangerous if not controlled. It also revealed how dirty and unkempt our new home was.

I moved the fridge to clean up the spill before it got sticky, but I remembered too late that you never move a major appliance unless you plan on spending the next 24+ hours cleaning your entire house. Upon moving the fridge, I instantly recognized the tiny brown pellets that should make any home owner/renter feel angry, scared, violated, and intruded upon.

We had mice.

It wasn't clear initially if the rodent roommates were still around or had merely once occupied a home that renters before us failed to be as concerned with cleanliness as much as Vicki and I.

I had my wife and our yet-to-be-born child leave the room, put on my mask and started cleaning. As I cleaned, I began to believe more and more that the nest behind the fridge had been vacated long before we had moved in. I thought my speculations were confirmed when I removed the back covering of the fridge and was instantly cast in an episode of CSI: Muridae.

Evidence that our rodent friend had quite literally moved on was comforting to Vicki and myself. From what I could tell, cause of death was hyperthermia due to the mouse getting a bit to close to the motor of the refrigerator.

Time of death was unknown and was difficult to determine due to the amount of dust and lint collected around the motor fan making it appear like years had passed.

As I used a close hangar to peel the coagulated corpse from the frame of the fridge to dispose of it, I remembered what I thought was a vision I had the night before the spill.

While playing Playstation 3 the night before the said beverage spill, I had thought I saw the shadow of a mouse run underneath the fridge.