Mr. Nibbles

A few weeks ago, a small brown field mouse has taken up residence in the bushes next to my front door. My kids love the mouse and have named him Mr. Nibbles.

I love Mr. Nibbles considerably less.

Recent Internet searches on my computer include "How to Poison Mr. Nibbles" and "How to Attract Large Quantities of Cats to One's Front Yard."

I'm not the only house in my neighborhood with a rodent problem. Nearly every house on my street is playing host to one or more of Mr. Nibbles' relatives.

"It's just that time of the year," my neighbor Bill told me, shrugging his shoulders. "They'll go away in about a month."

I don't think that I can wait a month.

"What about your cat?" suggested Joan, my neighbor to the East.

I went inside to find our tabby standing on the kitchen counter. Her head was inside a bag of tortilla chips.

"Time to earn your keep," I said, scooping her up. I opened the front door and plopped Millie down next to Mr. Nibble's burrow.

"Get to work," I instructed.

Millie sniffed the hole and waddled back inside the house.

By the time I got to her, she had already scaled three shelves of our pantry and was nibbling through a bag of flour tortillas.

Evidently she prefers Mexican food.