Mouse season

If you’ve got mice, you know the six stages of grief: Acceptance ("it's one of god’s creatures —live and let live”), concern (“that’s the same mouse I’m seeing every day —right?”), anxiety (“I’m not so sure I could be happy living with many, many mice”), anger (“who’s paying the rent here, anyway?”), frustration (“hey—they ate my camembert—and got away!”), and fury (“it’s settled: I am buying a gun”). 

And you also know the attractions and limitations of many mouse controls.

At one time you could count on a tinker-inventor to make a better mousetrap. Today you get your innovation from a product design and packaging company (Group 4), working for a lawn-care company (Scotts).  And they aren’t just researching the behavior of mice—they are also plumbing the psychology of the rodent world’s unwilling landlords, aka the consumer. It's “a human-centered design approach," as a press release puts it, "addressing the fears, emotions and usability concerns of end-users.”  The result?

A $4 plastic mouse motel with a tiny door and a hidden spring trap. You bait it and park it near a baseboard (mice love baseboards) or the fridge (ditto). When the antiseptically white trap scores, a red "mouse caught indicator" goes up, like a flag on a mailbox. Then you toss the whole thing and—here's the thing—never have to look into the eye of the victim.

Whew, that's one down. Wonder how many are left to go?