"It suddenly dawned on me," he said "that there's another curious aspect to this winter. It's the first mouseless year we've had in, oh, 20 years. Suddenly, it seems, they've just stopped coming. Can it be that the two wild cats which Herself feeds at night outside the front door, under the car, are the cause? They don't go to the back garden, but occasionally you might see one on top of the wall. That's all."
And he went on to tell of a friend in the country who has set traps here and there, as usual, as autumn turned the leaves brown. And so far he has found only two corpses. And this used to be a haven for the creatures. No cats to contend with and plenty of food in the drawers. Anyway, it would be interesting to hear if anyone else has suddenly found the annual siege lifted.
Well? The house mouse, we are told, in a splendid new book Exploring Irish Mammals by Tom Hayden and Rory Harrington with illustrations by Billy Clarke makes it clear that it is a singular blessing to be without these creatures. The house mouse, mus domesticus, is a more dangerous intruder than you might think. They eat almost anything. And it is not just what they do away with that matters most, but the contamination and disease they may bring, with their urine and faeces.
Each mouse may produce as many as 50 faecal pellets per day and one of the major diseases they carry is leptospirosis or Weil's disease which infects kidney and liver. Rats were known to carry that contamination, but the same we are told, is attributable to mus domesticus.
They often defecate and urinate at particular places and a pile of the droppings may accumulate and smell the area.
As well as your food, the house mice may well be helping themselves to the casing of electric cables.
With their production of 50 faecal droppings per 24 hours, the stink they can raise (for they tend to use the same places for their droppings and urine) are disgusting to people who haven't lost their sense of smell. In short, one mammal for which there is absolutely nothing favourable to say. The book published by Town House costs £20 and is stamped on the front by Duchas.
Y.