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Not a story about bikes

Posted by on April 8, 2006

While traveling I love just everyone, and have even developed a beautiful friendship with Allen’s mice, Hank and Gwen. We can tell them apart because Gwen, fortunately, wears a small bow around one ear. Although sometimes Hank puts it on instead, the little scamp. They live in the kitchen and get into everything except the trap.

Yesterday the Lad and Allen and I spent some time researching the best lure for a mousetrap. Short of putting an actual mouse in there, an inside man willing to assure outside mice that the trap is quite comfortable and safe in exchange for our protection from the Amsterdam mouse mafia, the best lure is peanut butter.

It’s true, as it happens. We caught Hank in the trap as he was scuttling manfully about in search of peanut butter, sulking slightly because Gwen wouldn’t let him wear the bow that day. We turned him out into the shrubbery far from the house.

But now I worry about Gwen, all alone under the sink with no one to try and steal her bow. Unbeknownst to the boys I’ve been flinging bits of girlfriend food under the stove for her to console herself with, like small nuggets of Ben’n’Jerry’s, a little cookie dough, and a teeny tiny DVD of The Way We Were. I hope she is doing ok down there, and comes out soon so we can send her to rejoin Hank out in the wild world.

There are Amsterdam pictures up here, several of which we just added today. Please enjoy the Lad’s fine photography and my fine captioning.

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