Hour Two

Okay, so I thought I had separated it from its obvious residence, or at least the place where it poos. But I knew I hadn't gotten rid of it altogether. But as I was looking as to the extent of mouse poo, which had gotten on my washing up gloves (very annoying), I saw another brown flash. Meaning while I thought I was rid of it, it was in fact, it was still in there. So in shock I slammed the door shut and tried to think of a scheme with which to get it out.
Now, I'm a gentle sort of man. Sure, if it was a matter of life and death and I had to shoot a dog or pull a fork out of someone's throat, I would man up and do it. But it is not in my nature to stomp on a mouse Green Mile style. And I'm not going to go out and buy mousetraps. I find that a little bit distasteful. Besides, knowing me, I'm more likely to come to harm from a mousetrap than any mouse.
So here's what I've done.



A series of boxes, guitar cases and other paraphenalia leading from the kitchen cupboard to the front door, where the mouse can leave safely and unharmed. Of course, I will be armed with a soft bristled broom as a means of encouraging said mouse in his exodus from my abode. Update soon, as we'll see if it works.