Day Nine: Gretchend

I write today with a heavy feeling in my chest. It's partly because Gretchen died today. It's mostly because I ate too much spaghetti for dinner.
Am I sad that Gretchen is dead? Yes. But I can't help but feel at least partly responsible, given I bought, baited and set the trap that killed her. But I don't accept all the blame, because it's Gretchen's parents fault for making her a mouse. And a common pest mouse who pooed all over my washing up gloves (and probably inside them).



I woke up this morning to find Gretchen stuck in my mouse trap, unable to resist the very classy Bonne Maman marmalade I had baited it with. She was smaller than a normal sized mouse, I would imagine. It's probably because marmalade doesn't have much fat or protein, but a lot of sugar and vitamins. And in an encouraging sign, she probably never left the kitchen after all, which suits a very 1950s style stereotype of a female mouse.
But while it is saddening to see the Gretchend, I can't help but be impressed with the efficiency of this mousetrap, to break the back of an animal without breaking the skin. Even though it's a blunt object I can't help but be impressed. Unfortunately, I lacked the stomach to dispense of Gretchen in a dignified manner, so I put her, still in the mousetrap, in a plastic bag, and threw the whole thing away.
As a humble newspaper journalist I feel I don't quite have the words to give Gretchen an appropriate send-off, but here's a tribute I feel is somewhat fitting.