Declining to dine Roman style

With the recent cold snap, we've had some uninvited guests join our household . . . mice. Our cats are both too well-fed and self-confined to areas of the house that the dog doesn't go, so the mice have set up housekeeping in our kitchen. We're working on getting the dratted little beasts out, but they're remarkably fast, agile critters, so it's taking some time.

This morning, Elizabeth found a quick way of getting rid of 'em, but it's probably neither economical nor particularly humane. She put some bread in the toaster, pushed down the lever, and suddenly the toaster started to scream in a high-pitched voice, and emitted some noxious smelling smoke.

Yep . . . toasted mouse.

I guess we've been effectively removing all the food sources they'd found when they first got into the house, so they're having to scavenge in new spots . . . and the crumb tray in the toaster hadn't been emptied for a while. So now we're in the market for a new toaster, too.

Perhaps we're not being adventurous, but even if toasted dormice were a Roman delicacy, we'll pass.