The Mouse and I: Chronology of Events

Dec. 30

1. Lying in bed reading.  Wife is sleeping.  I look up, and see a mouse moving from bedroom entrance to the closet area.  I swear, it seems as if the mouse stops for a second and looks at me, and then keeps going.  

Dec. 31

1. Lying on sofa next to wife watching television.  I feel something on my side.  Is it the tassel from the blanket?  But I keep feeling something and so I pull up my t-shirt and look and for a brief second I swear I can see something run under the sofa cushion.
2. A little while later, my wife and I hear rustling in the kitchen where we keep our trash and recycling.  I go into the kitchen, and when I turn on the light I see the mouse run away.
3. My wife starts cleaning the apartment at 10pm on New Year's Eve.  We have a few of the sticky mouse traps, the flat cardboard traps with super-adhesive material.  I place two in the kitchen and one in the living room. 

Jan. 1

1. We hear the mouse in trash again, but even though I go into the kitchen and inspect, I never see the mouse.

Jan. 2 

1. Wake up.  Wife says she heard squeaking during the night and thinks the mouse is caught.  
2. A few minutes later, I hear wife in kitchen screaming, and she runs into bedroom.   
3. Go to kitchen and find mouse stuck in trap and struggling.
4. Put plastic bag around mouse and trap and tie the bag, and stick in trash
5. Take trash with mouse and put outside at building garbage site
6. Wife reads that you can pour vegetable oil on mouse and trap, which will allow the mouse to detach from trap.
7. Retrieve mouse, which is still alive, and tear bag open.  Take mouse to park.
8. Pour oil on the mouse and on the trap.  The mouse is able to pry itself a little, but needs assistance, so I help pry mouse from trap.
9. Mouse seems in bad shape.  It tries to move but falls to its side a couple of times.  Seems like its leg is broken, if such a thing is possible.  I stay for a while, and it seems possible it's reviving, but I'm unsure if it will make it.
10. Several hours later I return.  At first, I don't see it, and I'm happy, thinking it got better enough to scurry away.  Then, I see it.  It's dead.