As I approached the end of my trapline, keeping a close watch for predators, I had a sense that today would be the day I earned my keep. Trapper Charlie they calls me, and for good reason. Known for my prowess with gun and trap, my instincts honed through years of studying the habits and habitat of my prey, I stalk quietly, nay, stealthily, ever closer until I discover the perfect kill. The trap has sprung perfectly, breaking the neck and ending the life of this vicious critter.
That’s one mouse that won’t be nesting in my garage this winter.
