Hmmm! Dung, seeing pink mice again, are we?
I dare say you could go in any large Pet shop that sells snakes and see an aquarium full of white mice ‘fighting’.
I guess a few bottles of wine are cheaper than an exterminator!
When I view a mouse, I don’t say, “Oh, look at the cute mousiekins!”
Ugh.
I’m more apt to be the cartoon lady to jump on a chair and go, “Eek! A mouse!”
My next words are, “Somebody get that damned thing outta here!”
I personally don’t do bugs and vermin. They aren’t in my contract. However, I have NO PROBLEM WHATSOEVER getting out my checkbook and paying whatever the exterminator wants!
~VOW
I haven’t experienced “fighting” mice.
However, I opened up my silverware drawer one morning (before my coffee, oh Gawd) to find a nest of yeeping babies.
You probably heard my scream…
~VOW
Y’know, I *did *hear some yeeping and a bloodcurdling scream not too long ago! Thought it was just the TV. 
It’s simply amazing how fast they will procreate. They are screw…erm ‘fighting’ machines. Litters are large. Even with Papa meece eating some of them.:eek:
I think tigers and elephants are cute, too, but I don’t want them living near me.
I have a story about guinea pigs. The same Mid-daughter played a prominent role in that debacle, as well.
Somehow I’m betting that the Big Wrekker wasn’t excited about paying to have vermin brought into the house.
I"m currently having a mouse problem. It happens when you have a 170 year old house and a really wet Spring. So far 19" year to date.
StG
My story on them can be summed up as: The new owners of my parents house got a surprise when they ripped up the wall-to-wall in the living room. Good luck to them refinishing the floor…:eek:
A somewhat different story because I’m British and grew up on David Attenborough. I was sitting outside a pub on the outskirts of my city. The outside bit is important. The pub is called the Cricket Inn and has a large pub garden that includes a cricket pitch. NB I don’t follow cricket but I do rather like to watch the men in white pursuing their craft. So garden, cricket pitch, men in white, lovely view of the moors and along comes a shrew. I knew it was a shrew not a mouse because of it’s pointy little snout. Shrews aren’t rare in Britain but they are tiny and stealthy. I’d never seen one before and I was thrilled.
Had the shrew been inside the pub - and correctly identified as not-a-mouse - I have no doubt that all the pub goers and the staff would have had a merry time trying to catch the little intruder and return it to the great outdoors. That Attenborough chap has a big influence you know.
Beck, I shared your stories with my kids. However, some are as ADD as I so I needed to revise the tales to include more white space. No other changes, just two spaces after a period and a blank line between paragraphs paragraphs.
Please forgive me.
First returns agree you could be the next Fannie Flagg.
Aw, Mikey. You’re a good un!
No, really. I’m a big fan of the mini-memoirs of Jean Shepherd which have been turned into shows like A Christmas Story and you have strong potential to play in that league. This deserves serious thought. Playboy’s gone, but does Lady’s Home Journal still publish short fiction?
Mid-daughter and kids and dogs are at my house for the pandemic duration. We got to talking about the ‘Great Guinea Pig Goof-up’.
Funny she remembers it quite differently than me.
I remember getting saddled with them over Christmas break of her 3rd grade year. And that they never went back to school. In fact ‘Ms. Hermann’ never returned to Mid-Ds class after Christmas(another debacle for a later time).
They were the smelly-ist, creepy whistling hairy little things. Horrible. (And, just think, people eat them in South America.)
I know they come from S.America cause Ms.Hermann said so, I heard about lots of Guinea pig husbandry facts attributed to Ms. Hermann. (Too bad she didn’t spend more time on Mid-Ds multiplication tables.) I feel like the learning experience of me screaming about cleaning that nasty cage was lost on Mid-D.
I have to say I just couldn’t release them to the wilds, to make it or die tryin’. They were big enough I’m afraid they would upset the delicate balance of flora and fauna in our area.
So the little shits lived out a long comfy life in my laundry room.
It’s been many years but, occasionally I walk in there and get a whiff of Guinea pig aroma.
Similar to skunk smell mix with vinegar. Not good. At. All.
Mid-daughter just said “Oh, Ma they weren’t that bad!” :eek: Girl! Please.
I hope her oldest gets a ‘Ms.Hermann’, if he ever gets to go back to school. :smack:
May I suggest at the earliest opportunity to give gifts., say, Easter, said Grandwrek gets an oh-so-cuuuuuute guinea pig, named “Hermann?”
With itsy-bitsy clamp on bunny ears?
~VOW
Alas, LHJ bit the dust a while back.
Good Housekeeping is still around…I think.
~VOW
I doubt anybody really would pay to read my crap life stories of Siamese cats, the lil’wrekker and my adventures.
So, so happy I have a captive audience here on the Dope. 
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Thanks, Cecil Adams for creating your books and column. Which led to the SDMB. You may have saved my life by association. Truly.
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