
We were shown in by a man who looked like he belonged on the
New Zealand rugby team rather than the little moped that he arrived on. He ran
through the ground rules and reminded us not to leave food out as ‘mice are all
over this city’. (I’d already checked out tripadvisor reviews on the apartment
and there were numerous cautionary tales from previous guests who’d suspected
mice were nibbling at their purchases.)

I ran to the kitchen grabbing a colander and a fish slice,
insisting that capturing it was kinder than death-by-stomping. It must have
been a ridiculous sight and they had the attitude of ‘stand in the corner and
we’ll take care of it.’ The cabinet was pulled back and the mouse panicked to
find a safe place to run. Apparently where I was seemed like the best option.
Without thinking I threw down the colander and, to
everyone’s surprise, there was a little brown town mouse doing laps inside. The
mouse, who was later named Johan, was put out the window but came back the
following night regardless.
A lot of people and establishments have resident cats to
stop madness like this.

One friend has an apartment on Singel and he swears he hears them ‘dancing’ around his kitchen in the middle of the night. Another Ex-pat told me about a dinner party she held and a mouse climbed onto the table in the middle of the room before starting to sample from the serving bowls.
Mice of Amsterdam are bold and plentiful.

Plus, I’d rather have a cat meowing because he wants to
share some tuna than a mouse who’ll silently nibble a bit of everything.
Photo credits:
Nel (the cute black cat) - © Katie Lips
Ginger and Black cross - © Enric Martinez
Pub cat - © Jeremy Keith
Molly's kitten - © Helen Olney
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