Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

"The smell of death surrounds you" -- Lynyrd Skynyrd

... But in this case it's a matter of rodents, not addiction: after four days of looking for it, in the wee hours this morning I finally found the dead mouse I'd been smelling in my bedroom.

Now to worry about how much of the smell has stuck to my otherwise clean laundry, and whether I've got annoying amounts of washing to do.

*sigh* Cats.

Finding a trophy presented to me would be icky, but easily disposed of before becoming malodorous. This business of wounding them or scaring them to death and then losing track of them before they completely expire results in unpleasant and protracted games of olfactory hide-and-seek. At least the weather is warm enough to try airing out the room by opening a window. The smell is fading slowly enough that I worry there may be a second wee corpse in here somewhere, however.

I think this beats having the mice run unmolested in my kitchen, but when I'm trying to get to sleep with that dead-things smell slawing at me, I'm not absolutely certain.