Tom and Jerry

Last year I was talking with some of my good friends who complained about having mice roaming their rooms at night. They said they could hear them along the walls and gnawing at things. I considered myself lucky that I hadn’t had to deal with a roaming mouse yet. The other week I came home to my host sister putting a dead mouse—caught in a mouse trap—in a plastic bag and taking it out to the trash. I asked her “tagvi aris?” (It is a mouse?) To which she replies “agher aris” (it’s not anymore). Since then I’ve realized that the changing weather has brought these little critters in from the cold. I decided to keep a look out since then.

I should also point out that in Georgia people are obsessed with Tom and Jerry. Maybe not obsessed, because I’ve never seen anyone watch it, but they are constantly say “Tom and Jerry, Tom and Jerry” to me. Or going, “So, you’re Tom. Where’s Jerry?” I usually just smile and tell them that show is outdated and my niece used to be obsessed with it—insinuating they have the maturity of a (almost) five-year-old girl. That usually gets people laughing and the conversation turns to things. My counterparts will raise hell with students if they say “Tom and Jerry” to me, because it is annoying, and it is also rude. But this is a true Tom & Jerry story.

Last night I was reading these new books a G9 had recommended to me before he left—Game of Thrones. I hear they have an HBO series of it now, too. I was putting away my Nook at about 12:30 and turned out my lights when I heard it: tap, tap, taptap, taptaptap. It was raining last night and I foolishly thought the rain was just playing some tricks on me. I sat up somewhat concerned and didn’t see anything, so I calmed myself down and decided it was just something moving or falling a bit. I put my head down and rest my eyes.

I could hear the sound a bit closer. It was right at the edge of my bed. Then I hear scratch, scratch, scratch. I once again convinced myself it was my eyelashes twitching on the pillow or anything other than what my gut feeling was telling me. I could almost hear this scratching as if it was right to me; right underneath my pillow. Well, that’s because it was! I opened my eyes just in time to see a little brown ball of fur race across my bed, six inches from my face. I tried to catch him that second but he was too quick and ran off. This was war.

No denying it this time. There was a mouse in my room and I was determined to catch him or chase him away. I sat up and grabbed my flashlight and shined it towards all the corners of my room, under dressers, chairs, desks, and finally my bed. There he was again, he was peaking his little head between my sleeping bag and travel suitcase. He saw the light and quickly ran off under the confusion of the bed. So, I took everything out from underneath my bed. Then I turned off my flashlight and stood very still until I could hear him moving about again. I turned on my light and shined it straight at him, and also trying to corner him. Again, he was too fast and hid underneath a dresser and then a chair.

My host father was going to the bathroom when he saw me getting things to help my cause from the kitchen and asked what I was doing. I told him there was a mouse I was trying to catch. He said we’d wait till morning and deal with it then. Mostly I was just annoyed that a mouse had the audacity to stage an attack on my bed. This mouse was goin’ DOWN!

I decided to kick him out of the house instead on catching him. I opened my door and closed all the other doors along the long hallway of our apartment, and then leaving only the front door open. I found him and chased him out the door (he’d been scratching at the door trying to get out, too. Apparently he didn’t enjoy my company much either. From there it was relatively easy. Imagine me at 3:30am, my host family sound asleep in their beds, and me racing down a dark hallway flashlight in one hand and rolled up flip-chart paper in the other. Yeah, interesting thought. The mouse tried to hide out under our hallway coat rack but I took an umbrella and chased him pretty quickly out of there.

My host family also has a vestibule area and there were too many places he could hide in there. But I decided my job was sufficiently accomplished and finally went to bed. I woke up this morning to my host family having a good laugh over my antics the previous night. We then told my host sister I chased the mouse into her room. I’m a very nice older brother. I learned from the best, Dean. Since then we placed a half-dozen mouse traps around the house.

I seriously doubt that mouse will return to my room anytime soon though.