Last Semester, I had the wonderful privilege of not only living on first floor Caples, but also to have an unwanted mouse as a part of my living space. There was nothing more refreshing and exciting than trying to go to sleep at midnight and hearing the tiny scratches of little disease ridden mouse feet. Also it ate my four dollar bag of unopened Milano cookies which I don’t even let my friends eat. I was very sad.
After Christmas, I thought I got away from it. There was no way this mouse had made it through the cold weather, and Caples was unheated over break. I figured it had died.
But boy was I wrong.
Some backstory for you all:
This is my cactus. His name is Juan Cactus and I purchased him from the middle path cactus lady at the beginning of the year. I remembered to water him at the end of every month just like she said and during christmas I even put a festive red bow on top of his spiky lil head.
When I returned from break, I expected to see my cactus alive and thriving, instead what I returned to was a crime scene.
The mouse ATE my cactus. He dug it up and ATE it. How does that even happen? What kind of sadistic, masochistic mouse would EAT A FUCKING CACTUS??
How do I know he ate the cactus you ask? This was all that was left–
I was so upset. For MONTHS I had nurtured and cared for that cactus and been so proud that I could keep a plant alive (which is a pretty adult thing to do in my book) and a mouse takes that away from me.
I figured this time, at least, the mouse was finally dead. As you can see, Juan Cactus was a rather prickly fellow, and I honestly don’t think a human could survive eating that many needles let alone a teeny mouse.
Then, just the other day, I received this text from Julieanna, the CA of first and second floor Caples.
It’s still alive and at large. I don’t know how it’s alive but clearly we’re dealing with some kind of weird immortal monster mouse and at this point I’m kind of scared.
IF YOU SEE THIS MOUSE CALL CAMPUS SAFETY. REMEMBER, HE IS A MURDERER.
(R.I.P. Juan Cactus)
I, too, suffered tragic losses from this monstrosity. My chocolate collection will never be the same. Nor will my lamp shade.