Mice and some other pests have evolved an instinctual aversion to the smell of cats, it triggers their fear response. Just having the cats around might have been good enough.
You are lucky, in my previous flat there were hoarders-alcoholics that lived on the next floor, one day they brought mice with whatever shit they decided to take. At first they were contained on their floor, but after a while they were everywhere. Cat played with them at first >_< and then got bored. After 10 or so that traps killed (in a month) I moved out.
Your experience reminded me of “Tom,” the farm cat who lived in the corn silo on my great aunt’s farm. He avoided/hated children but tolerated the adults who worked there. Depending on the season, he killed multiple mice a day, ate only their livers (leaving behind a trail of bodies), and used crippled mice to track down the hidden others. Tom was a true professional—and honestly, quite terrifying.
Edit: My aunt “paid” him with leftover spaghetti, ground meat, and eggs, as well as a warm spot by the oven in the winter (if he chose to stay there). He was “semi-feral”—never going near the house during the summer months.
Well, whatever my cat did, the mice are gone so… 🤷♂️
I did see a few dead mice around the first 2 months, now no sight of mice.
Mice and some other pests have evolved an instinctual aversion to the smell of cats, it triggers their fear response. Just having the cats around might have been good enough.
You are lucky, in my previous flat there were hoarders-alcoholics that lived on the next floor, one day they brought mice with whatever shit they decided to take. At first they were contained on their floor, but after a while they were everywhere. Cat played with them at first >_< and then got bored. After 10 or so that traps killed (in a month) I moved out.
Your experience reminded me of “Tom,” the farm cat who lived in the corn silo on my great aunt’s farm. He avoided/hated children but tolerated the adults who worked there. Depending on the season, he killed multiple mice a day, ate only their livers (leaving behind a trail of bodies), and used crippled mice to track down the hidden others. Tom was a true professional—and honestly, quite terrifying.
Edit: My aunt “paid” him with leftover spaghetti, ground meat, and eggs, as well as a warm spot by the oven in the winter (if he chose to stay there). He was “semi-feral”—never going near the house during the summer months.
Edit2 + Spelling,Typos,Grammar,
What the fuck kinda Hannibal Lecter cat…
One of my calicos likes eating the bottom half of lizards and leaving them alive. She’s a sadist.
Ive always wondered about the poor villagers who lived in tigers territory. Every night a kitty comes out to play.