Mouser

Note: This post is not for the squeamish. If you can't stand to watch nature shows because some animals kill other animals, do not continue reading. With my biology background, these scenes don't bother me. I was thrilled years ago to witness a hawk eating its kill up close and personal, and I used to pick up roadkill for raptors in rehab. But that's just me. If these things turn your stomach or disgust you, please go find a nice cotton-candy post to read today.

My sweetie has buckets and coconut coir ready to plant potatoes in his hydroponic garden this weekend. He also needs compost, though, so I promised I would sift the finished compost bin for him today. We have two bins (a great yard sale find at $10 each) and one has been sitting - finishing - for the past four months. The compost is sifted through hardware "cloth" (metal, not cloth) into our garden cart (another yard sale find) and the chunky stuff is tossed into a garbage can. We keep the can near the compost bins and use it to store brown cover material for the kitchen scraps. Our browns include leaves from the yard, straw from bales, shredded paper and cardboard, and leftover chunky compost.

The bins hold quite a bit of material so I was working for hours. The dogs were hanging out in the yard with me, letting any passersby know that they were in charge of all activities in the neighborhood. Any repetitive activity can become somewhat meditative and I had a nice rhythm going. Polie was laying nearby but just far enough from the cart to avoid having compost drift down onto his nose.

When I reached the bottom of the bin, I was somewhat startled when a mouse came running out of the bin. The fact that there was a mouse didn't surprise me. I've had trouble with mice in my compost and frequently have to set traps for them. (Best bait for the old-fashioned snap traps is half a peanut wedged under the metal bit. When the mouse tugs at it, it snaps the trap. Licking peanut butter off doesn't always trigger the trap. This week, I've been using pecans successfully, too.)

When that mouse came running out, Polie was up in a flash. After a brief chase and a quick lunge, he had the mouse in his mouth. At least I assumed there was a mouse in his mouth because there was a tail hanging out of it. Instinctively I told him, "Drop it!" and he did. The mouse ran off and he was unable to catch it. He was miffed at me and I was not thrilled either that I'd still have to deal with that mouse later.

I finished emptying up the bin and started transferring the compost from the other bin over to it. This accomplishes several things. It mixes the compost so there are not dry bits on the edges and good stuff only in the middle. It allows me to add more greens or browns as needed, or moisten the materials if necessary. It also lets me deal with any baby mice that are in the middle of the compost pile. No, it's not a pleasant task but it is one that must be dealt with. We have created the environment for the pests and we must take the responsibility to deal with eliminating them.

When I got about two-thirds of the way down into the second bin, I started encountering mice. And Polie started having fun. Each time a mouse went running out of the bin, he gave chase, usually catching them on the first lunge. He seemed a little confused when they no longer moved after he dropped them from his mouth but didn't seem to understand they were edible. I scooped up each little still body and tossed it into a bucket so he'd quit nosing them. As I got down to the bottom of the bin, I encountered young mice. Polie quickly took care of them but had to work fast to do so.

Finally, the bin was empty. On a hunch, I peeked behind it and sure enough, there was another mouse. I quickly pulled the bin away from the wall and told Polie to get the mouse. Then there was a hint of movement behind the other bin, which was, by now, too full to move. That mouse dropped down and started digging into the soft soil, unaware that huskies like to dig. Sorry little mouse, no more breeding for you. Unfortunately, it had a friend that got away. Despite my moving all the materials around in that part of the yard, Polie and I could not find it.

It took a bit of work to put the bin back in place and re-assemble it, not because it was heavy or awkward but because I couldn't get Polie out of the space. He had found something more fun than getting attention or treats and I was taking that away from him. Even after I had everything cleaned up and ready for a new batch of compost, he was trying to dig under the front of the bin. It may be hard to convince him there won't be hoards* of mice running out of there every single time we got outside now.

I only sift and turn the compost a couple of times per year so I am now planning to keep the mouse trap set all the time. I know, I know. It's unfair to Polie, but I don't really want to be running a mouse farm here.

*Hoards: Today's mouse count was almost a dozen: 4 adults and 4 youngsters caught by Polie, 1 youngster that dies in a shoveling accident, 1 dead adult in the trap from last night, and 1 adult that got away. Considering they breed faster than rabbits, I expect more mice in no time.