Oh the confusing terror I unleashed when my last post pretended to have a political slant… Me? Write about politics? NEVER. Me? Write an unapologetically geeky post about Harry Potter? YES.
I will not confuse of befuddle anyone today. I will stick to the shenanigans for which I’m best suited: The Menagerie
I thought it might be time for an update on the Procreation Station.
Things I’m learning about breeding mice:
- If wild mice are on your property or in your home, they will breed with reckless abandon creating an infestation of epic proportions. If two fancy mice are purchased and caged together they will won’t be in the “mood.” Maybe it’s little mousy headaches?
- There aren’t any clear signals or signs to know if mousy pregnancy has taken place. Offering a miniature bowl of ice-cream with pickles to see if she nibbles at it isn’t considered good ‘rodent husbandry.’
- Mouse daddies must be removed before mouse babies come along. I guess they aren’t supposed to help with midnight feedings and potty training. It probably has to do with eating their young. I must admit, I can think of a few nights that I would have salted and peppered my newborns and said, “Bon appetit.”
For now we wait. We use a little food scale everyday to weigh our girl, Sugar, to see if she starts consistently putting on weight. I guess I’ll check her little feet and ankles for swelling and wait for her to start crying everytime sappy commercials are playing.