The Mice Murders, part 2

If you have not yet read part one, please click here and start with part one.  Thanks!

As I was moving a log to position it correctly for cutting, a 4 headed, 16 footed, multi-whiskered fiend jumped straight out at me.  I know I said it had 12 feet yesterday.  It didn't actually grow 4 feet overnight.  I had just miscalculated my mice math.

As I jumped back out of the way, I sat the the chainsaw down as quickly as possible.  While the temptation to create a mouse version of Texas Chainsaw Massacre (maybe The Mouseketeer Massacre?) was enticing, I weighed my options and settled on the side of safety.

As I stood back up the mouse thing started scurrying along one of the logs.  Except it was not able to scurry very well. 

And the reason made me feel almost sorry for the mouse.  Yes, me, the self-proclaimed hater of all rascally rodents.

The 4 headed creature was actually a momma mouse nursing 3 babies.  But not little 'pinkie' mice.  These babies were about 1/3 - 1/2 the size of their momma.

And they were hanging on to their momma with nothing but their mouths on her nipples.  Yes, she was literally dragging three babies across the log with nothing to transport them but their mouths chomping down on her nipples.

While I have never personally nursed a baby, I understand that it can be quite painful if the baby gets a little over-ambitious while nursing. 

Even I felt bad for this momma mouse.

That being said, I quickly assessed the situation, picked up a metal grounding rod lying nearby and tried to impale my new-found enemies.  While this seemed like a good idea in theory, actual usage proved otherwise.  The point of the rod was too narrow and the rod was too heavy to really be effective.  I chased the momma mouse under a few small pieces of wood.  One of her babies finally lost it's hold on her.  I chased her under an empty planter bucket.  I missed her again, but another of her babies dropped off.  Finally, as I picked up a 2 foot section of 2x4 for my next weapon of choice, she ran straight at me. 

Without even having much time to think about it, I lifted my foot, and stomped down.  Hard.  She was met with a quick and painless death.

In retrospect, I think she may have actually known what was coming and was willing to do anything just to make the pain from her overly gnawed nipples to go away.

I was more than happy to oblige her.

Next, I had to consider what to do with the three baby mice.  I think they would have probably died, but they were big enough, I was not sure.  Plus, I didn't want to see them starve to death, or if they were big enough, I did not want to see them grow up and later invade my house.

So, I took care of them quickly and painlessly.

While I get no joy from dispatching death to my furry friends, I am not willing to sacrifice my home or well-being for theirs.  I already received one comment on my first post about the sometimes deadly consequences of dealing with mice.

I'm just not willing to take that chance with my family.

What about you?  Do you think I did the right thing?  Why or why not?  Do you have any stories about how rodents have impacted your life?