I woke up today to the unhappy realization that I have to face up to a rather unpleasant fact.
I've been trying to ignore the signs for a while now, instead pretending that I had a ghost or a gremlin playing pranks in the kitchen, but no more.
I have at least one mouse living somewhere in my house, and as they're not known for being solitary creatures (unless I'm on a film set), I probably have mice.
Despite getting in some of those sonic thingies that are supposed to send mice fleeing the house within seconds, I still kept finding my packet noodles nibbled and empty, and even though I've been zealous about ensuring no food is left out in the kitchen at any time, I began finding little black pellets behind the bread bin.
And as if that wasn't enough proof, I finally got photographic evidence -

I know the pic is very blurry, but the little fucker furry thing was incredibly quick and didn't want it's picture taken.
And another thing is bizarre: even though I used to have hamsters, gerbils and mice as pets when I was little, and even though I've never been scared of any rodents in my life* for some unknown reason the sight of the little bastards scampering across the floor makes me want to jump onto a chair and scream!
As I can't bear the thought of finding half-dead mice lying about in traps and the idea of poisoning them would hang heavy on my conscience, I think my modus operandi now includes phoning the local council to see if they can help. If they don't help for free I don't know what I can do, except get a cat, but I don't want to get a kitty only for that reason.
As I already wrote on yesterday's post I was thinking of putting a sign up in the garden reading 'Mouser required, apply within', but I don't think I can wait to go through all the interviews and questions about holiday pay and pension plans etc.
I just don't want mice any more, and I don't want them right now!
Anybody know any friendly pest control people perchance?

*Except for the fictional ones created by James Herbert.