How do you know it's not the same mouse or meeces, Diane? Do they run around in packs? My mother would have a fit - the one thing she was absolutely terrified of - little mice - not much else scared her.
I lived in a student flat in Cowgatehead in Edinburgh for a while. They gutted the top three floors of the building and turned them into flats, but left the ground floor - a dirty old pub and various dubious shops. Of course, all the mice just moved to the bottom floor while the renovations went on and then moved back up when we moved in. My room mate and I were lucky - our door was flush with the carpet. The other two had a gap and the mice used to love cavorting in there. Running over Marj's pillow in the middle of the night, etc. She hated them. We came home one night and there was one in the kitchen, so Marj took her shoe off (clogs were all the rage then) and threw it at it - direct hit! On the other hand, came home with friend Andy once to discover another one in the kitchen and he insisted on getting a jar, catching it, taking it downstairs and letting it go outside. No doubt it found the nearest pipe and came straight back up again. We tried everything, but it was a losing battle - this was just below Greyfriar's cemetry, beginning of the Grassmarket - not the most salubrious of areas in those days. The mice population had probably been there for centuries.
