While meditating in the dark at 5 a.m. the other morning, i heard a little nibbling noise in the kitchen. I had been seeing chewed cherry tomatoes on the kitchen counter, but that morning i saw a half-nibbled sungold cherry tomato at the back corner of the stove. It was too big for somebody to haul into their hiding place.
My sweetie put out 4 mousetraps with his usual gourmet treat of a raisin and a dab of peanut butter. Next morning, no snap-traps were sprung, and more cherry tomatoes were nibbled. He tried adding half a tomato to each trap. Next morning, the innards of the tomatoes were missing on all 4 traps. Oh! What a delicately dining mouse.
The old hav-a-heart mousetrap was soon sitting on the kitchen counter, and within an hour, someone was rattling around inside.
Every morning i take a vow not to harm living beings, so my sweetie takes on the role of hunter in our house. This doesn't seem quite fair, but he is adamant about no mouse in the house.
Sometimes, we joke that we give the mice a choice: snap-trap or hav-a-heart. This mouse really did take the hav-a-heart way out of our house and enabled us to have--and feel--our hearts. Even when it comes to annoying, noisome little critters.