The House Mouse

Last night I had a mouse encounter of the close kind.

Our bathrooms are down the hall. The women's is on the first floor, the men's is on the second.
I left my room, toothbrush in mouth, heading to the bathroom. There, at the landing was a mouse. Unafraid, he waited for me to pass. This seemed contrary to my instincts. I jumped, and tried to scare him off. He ran down the stairs to the door, turned around, and came back up the stairs. He looked at me. He didn't want to go out THAT door!

I stomped my feet. I took off my shoe and threatened him. It's illegal to kill anything in the park. Guess he knew that.
I faked a bluff charge. Back down the steps, then up again. Waiting me out. I get it.
My door was shut, so, figuring it was the same mouse I saw last week, I gave him some space.
Sure enough, he hung a left, headed down the corridor towards the kitchen supervisors room. Being midnight, all doors were firmly closed.

He wandered a moment, then headed out the exit door at the end of the hall. There's a space plenty big enough for him to exit there. Guess he's been doing this quite awhile.

Today I read about a bear being caught in a car at 2 a.m. The police arrived, tied a rope to the door handle, and pulled it open. Reasoning the best outcome was for no one to get hurt, they kept people at a distance while the bear, having thoroughly trashed the car, escaped. Perhaps pissed, but avenged at being trapped in his adventure, (having to be let "out") this black bear made news.

All is well that ends well.
Next time I see the house mouse, I'll just watch him run past. No encounters. Just a nice, hey, how ya doin' tonight?