If I Ignore Mice, Will They Ignore Me?

Little minions of evil, go find someone else to taunt.

Note: a slightly different version of this story was published on Medium in the past.

“Musophobia is a fear of mice or rats.” Musophobia.com

“Fear of mice and rats is one of the most common specific phobias.” Fear of Mice Wikipedia

My fear of mice and rats started young. I could say I was born with it, but that would be a lie. I can’t remember what I thought about small, uninvited, rodent freeloaders before the age of 5. I doubt I thought of them much at all.

My mother received an eviction notice in 1969. The one-bedroom house she rented was being torn down. She found a small house on a horse property.

There was a slightly smaller home immediately behind the main house. You then walked a little bit further into the yard and an even smaller home was to the left. Immediately behind this smaller house were the barn and stable area.

It was fun to live on a property with horses. Two of the horses were small Shetland ponies. Sometimes I rode on the smaller pony with one of the bigger kids from the front house. What a dream for a little girl, right?

Our rented home had one bedroom and an alcove that fit a twin bed and a slim toy chest. Originally intended as an office or reading nook, it worked great as my bedroom.

It was open to the hallway that ran between the living room and the kitchen. I am not sure if the lack of a doorway had anything to do with my visitors.

We had mice. A lot of mice. My mother joked that it was the mice’s house and they let us live there. Funny, right? Not to a 5-year-old. Sometimes, in my bed at night, I could see eyes glowing in the dark.

You can tell your adult self over and over that the light was being reflected in the little rodents’ eyes. You can know it to be true. But the memory shows those eyes glowing in the dark. The memory doesn’t fade.

Added to all this was my experience while ill. I became sick while we lived in that house. It was a virus that caused a high fever, chills, and delirium for at least 2 weeks. I know I was out of school for 3.

I have two memories from those two weeks:

· A dream I had that the tooth fairy was coming to take all my teeth. Forcefully.

· Glowing eyes in the dark.

When I came out of it, I knew the tooth fairy dream was a lie but was convinced I’d seen the mice staring at me. I didn’t have any memory of them climbing on me, but of course, that is where the fear leads if I let myself think about it.

So that’s my fear. It extends to rats. If they are in cages, I can deal with it. I can even see they are cute. The minute someone opens the cage, my heart climbs into my throat and I look for a table to climb on. Screaming is possible. Shrieking is probable.

A free-range small rodent takes me back to my 6-year-old self and those glowing eyes. I say small rodents because rabbits don’t set it off. Rabbits are like puppies or cats. Cute, furry, and soft. Not evil.

If a pet rabbit slept in my room and watched with eyes glowing from reflected light, I’d have to add them to the list. Writing this out is making my heart beat faster.

Why am I talking about this if it is so difficult? Good question. I read the following story on Medium and it inspired me:

In this story, Nikki Kay recounts how she got over her fear of spiders. She now finds some of them “cute.” Read the story. Or don’t.

I read the story and it had me scratching. Imaginary spiders touching me isn’t a fun idea, even if I don’t have a phobia.

This brought up a couple of questions:

· Could I get over my small rodent phobia?

· Should I even bother?

The Pet Helpful website’s page on mice begins by saying:

“Mice Aren’t Scary!” Daniella Wood, Top 10 Reasons Not to Be Scared of Mice

I read the entire article, but I’ll be honest. The reasons hit my brain as “blah, blah, blah.” She does agree that home infestations can be terrible.

Ms. Wood seems to assume this is not because mice are evil, little, germy freeloaders. She focuses on things like mice gnawing on belongings. My fear of mice has nothing to do with bite marks on my books.

If I thought it would help get them out of my house, I’d pack a little to-go bag full of books. Then I’d ship them wherever the devil’s spawn was willing to move. Unfortunately, that was not an option when I was a kid. Those mice were staying.

Ms. Wood has kept pet mice since she was 12 and doesn’t get it. Let the little suckers loose in her house and wake up to glowing eyes and she might change her mind. Probably not, but I’m going to say she would.

The Musophobia website assures me a traumatic incident with a mouse can trigger a phobia. Near the bottom of the page, I spy a section that looks promising.

“Medicine is often prescribed for Musophobia. Please note that these medications can have side effects and/or withdrawal systems that can be severe. It is also importation to note that medicines do not cure Musophobia, at best they only temporarily suppress the systems. However, there are treatments for Musophobia, which include counseling, hypnotherapy, psychotherapy, and Neuro-Linguistic programming.” Musophobia

This sounds like a lot of work. Since I live in a home that is free of rodents, both large and small, the matter isn’t urgent.

I have two cats that live with us. Xander might or might not get excited about a mouse hunt. Anya, though, is a decent hunter when it comes to bugs. I hope her talent extends to small rodents as well.

Elsewhere on the Musophobia site, it suggests calming and relaxing exercises can help. Deep breathing and yoga will help a person stay calm and in control.

I don’t feel in control when a mouse darts out toward my feet. Or towards someone else’s feet. It is more the darting than the feet, to be honest.

There was another possible suggestion. Ignore it. Ignore the entire issue and do my best not to come into contact with free-range minions of evil. I can do that.

I’ve been doing that for 50 years.

If you liked this, you might like: