We rode in again this morning. This time the bridge nearly had me walking. It is quite steep and I began to wonder if I had the strength to pedal my ass up the damn thing. Alas, in the end,
Looks like we made it!
. And today I brought my camera AND its cord. When I arrived to work, I was told by Cowboy that I could never ever bring a bike in the front entrance, that I must go around to the freight elevator in order to get to the fourth floor. I did so. Waited for the guy to come down and collect me to go to work upstairs. The lift lets you out in the back of our office where the trash is kept. There are several huge, stinky trash cans and it’s dark, nearly pitch black as a matter of fact. There is no such sign of daylight unless it manages to crawl into the elevator along with me. And I can’t imagine why it would. When I was waiting for M__ to let me in, I was standing there and my eyes began to adjust in the low light coming from the elevator shaft, it shown on the floor near my feet. And much to my horror, I saw a sticky trap holding a half-dead mouse. He moved upon ever motion I made. He squeaked and moaned and wiggled about. M___ could not have come soon enough. Perhaps this is where people should go when they are bad—Of Trash, Mice and Men. I want to smoosh the poor little guy so he doesn’t suffer any longer.
poor mousie.
you should make him a hat. at least then he’d look happy…
like a little party hat…
sorry. i’ll go back to my cave now…
If I put a hat on him, others will be jealous and then they might hit the stick as well and then it will be a true horror.
I am not the pied piper of the mice world.
I remember working at a restraunt during my philly years; I came in a bit late for work (5:30 am on sunday morning..we ran the morning brunch and it took that long to get ready considering we opened at 8 am). my coworker looked down near the trash can and said “oh crap…now we gotta kill it.” apparently, a mouse landed on a glue trap but was still alive. my coworker (gloved) picked up the mouse/glue trap and took it out to the back alley way to put the poor thing out of his misery. it was not fun at all to witness such a thing. but where do you draw the line between compassion and crultey?
Personally, the sticky traps freak me out a bit. I think they’re horrible. But if people choose to use them and the little boogers get stuck to it I think it’s ok to end the suffering—pull a Dr Kevorkian, whatever. I think your coworker probably did the right thing at the time.
However, I really don’t think I could do it. Kill it even dead.