Blood on my hands

I am responsible for the death of a mouse. I didn't actually kill it myself, but I might as well have.

Last week, I walked out of my cubicle (which is next to a small kitchen) and was startled by a sense of speedy movement near my feet. I glanced down just in time to see a small, brown mouse disappear into the kitchen. It looked like it had crawled underneath the cabinet, though when I looked I could not see any hole at all that it might have fit into. To be fair, I didn't want to get too close in case the mouse was still there.

Anyway, I was totally stuck about what to do--pretend I hadn't seen it and go on my way? Jump up and down and shriek? Try to catch it? I wound up sending an email to Facilities, telling them that I had seen a mouse and could they please do something about it.

And with that one simple email, I killed a mouse. I could have not said anything, and the mouse would still be alive today. But I did say something, and someone came over and set a trap. There was, apparently, nowhere in the kitchen to set it, so they set it in my cubicle, behind my desk. That was on Friday. They said they'd be back on Monday to check it, but they weren't, so after a couple days, I finally mustered up the courage to check the damn trap myself.

And of course, there it was, with a little mouse corpse on top of it. I think it was on top of it, anyway. I almost broke my neck with the speed that I snapped my head away from the sight, so I can't be totally sure. So, naturally, I sent another email to Facilities. And someone came by a few hours later with a trash bag and gloves, and carted the mouse and trap away.

And even though I was totally icked out by the mouse? And even though I am really not happy that I sat at my desk for several days, just feet away from its dead body? And even though I was convinced that I could smell it, even though I only started noticing the smell once I'd seen that the body was there, which means that I totally psyched myself into smelling an odor that most likely wasn't actually there? I still feel massively, horribly guilty for having caused it to die. I mean, it was just a little mouse. And it was kind of cute.

In other rodent-related news, today is the first day of the Chinese New Year, which means that it is now officially the Year of the Rat, which is my Zodiac sign. I suppose I should have realized that earlier, since I'll be 24 this year and there are 12 different Zodiac signs, but I didn't. Not until Google informed me via the very cute graphic in their header today.

And by the way, I blame images like that, which make rodents look cute, for making me feel guilty about the death of that mouse.