Eeek!

Some people are not phased by a mouse scurrying across their dining room floor. 

I am not one of those people. 

I had to be brave, but it wasn't without a lot of screaming. 

In the end, my trusty black lab took care of the mouse. It took her 45 minutes of chasing, pointing and corning, but she killed it. And, much to my surprise, she didn't eat it or bring it to me. 

Like every other once living thing smaller than the dog, we are storing the dead mouse in a canning jar with the lid screwed on very tightly.