bookstore mice

About the size of a half dollar, short tail, up by the printer, running along its lower edge, picking up the pace a bit when he sees me, scooting behind, out of site. The food is in the kitchen, by they roam, as if browsing, moving through the stacks, occasionally alerting a customer to their presence with a hustled run from under one bookshelf to another.

Rachel is in charge of the catch-and-release program, baiting traps with peanut butter. The weight of the mouse as it crawls in to eat shifts the center of gravity, the trap shifts and a door shuts. One mouse, captured thus, managed to escape. Having learned that the black plastic box that smells like peanut butter is a trap, he had been able to allude capture, until Saturday, when he wound up in the kitchen garbage. My daughter Ru was delighted. We could lift the clear plastic bag and see the little mouse, safe behind plastic (until he began to gnaw for freedom.)
Mice released by the dumpster have found their way back into the building (clever!) so Rachel and Ru drove over to Sutter's Landing over my protest -- The park at Sutter's Fort is good enough for that mouse! More space, more freedom along the river, they said.