I am the worst farmer ever. I'm sure if there was a vote I'd win hands down because I just can't kill anything. OK, that is not true. I have no problem killing Black Widow spiders but that is about all I can kill without feeling great shame.
Today while I was cleaning the barn I found another nest of baby mice. I say "another" because I found one last week too. They were teenagers and ran in all directions and instead of doing anything about them I just covered up their nest area and left them. In my mind I was thinking that maybe just the mere encounter with me would send them looking for a new residence. I guess that was not the case. Not only did they stay, but one of them or maybe their mother decided the hay area was as good a place as any to have another batch.
I probably should have seen this coming last year when I found one lone mouse living in the corner of the hay area. I know there was only one because every time we use up all the hay I lift up all the pallets and sweep all the hay from under and around them and then put them back before stacking new hay on them. So today when I was getting ready to do my pallet cleaning routine and I found the six new, just past pink, babies I knew I had to do something to get them to leave.
Kill them? I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I played out about a half dozen scenarios in my mind and each one sent me into a downward spiral of guilt. Thoughts of Mrs. Frisby haunting me with each new idea. In a moment of shear despair I went to find Ferryn, the cat. He would have to solve this dilemma for me.
Ferryn has been in our family since he was about three weeks old. We rescued him. At one time he was a house cat but he begged and begged to be an outdoor cat and when we said "no" he decided to start spraying. Needless to say he is an outdoor cat now and he is not allowed inside.
When we moved here I figured he'd love life as a barn cat. He doesn't. He is great at hunting gophers but he avoids the barn at all costs because he is terrified of the goats. So getting him to rid the barn of mice is probably going to be an impossible feat. However, I decided to try anyway.
Well, I'm the worst farmer ever and Ferryn is the worst barn cat ever. Together I guess we are the worst of the worst.
If you have a humane suggestion on ridding the barn of mice please let me know. In the meantime I did my pallet cleaning routine as the teenagers ran in all directions and I set the tiny babies outside. I figure their mom will find them or something else might, but I going with the "ignorance is bliss" motto right now. Yes, I know, I'm the worst farmer ever ...