There's a Mouse in My House.

Um, yeah, that pretty much sums it up. There is a mouse in my house. At least it's an explanation of why Lucy has been freaking me out lately - what with all the hunting and darting and extra-emphatic curiosity... at least it's not Shelob. It's actually a cute little thing. ((Well, shit.))

In case of encounter, suspicion or even remote thought of:


KILL. Kill without second thought. Slaughter. Annihilate. Destroy. Seek all offspring and friends and first cousins and repeat process.

In case of bare-footed, barely-had-coffee, at-the-foot-of-your-BED-and-can't-avoid-it encounter of:


I mean, come on now. I don't want it in my house, but I don't want it dead. (Though I will admit to screaming like a pansy in a thunderstorm when I first saw it.)
...Here we again come to: ((well, shit.))