I mentioned recently that we've had mice in our house again, which is something that I truly hate. When I shop for mouse-control, I go to the "whack 'em" or "poison 'em" section and load up. The Man, always on the lookout for something new, brought home one of those supposedly "humane" mouse traps-- you know, the catch-and-release kind that's basically a box with a one-way door.
Now aside from not wanting to deal with what to do with a live mouse (where on earth do you release the little boogers, and won't they just come back into a house, although possibly not yours?), I also don't want the guilt triggered by their anguished little squeaks from under my sink. Among other things.
It turns that these traps aren't as humane as all that. I'm not sure how it happened, but when we checked our trap a couple nights ago (upon hearing scritching and squeaking in the kitchen), we discovered three mice in it: two live and one dead. So very dead as to render it nearly a plurality. At least one of the other mice in the trap seemed terribly distraught about this turn of events. I think the other one might have given up or possibly had a heart attack. Maybe it was playing possum.
In any case, being buried alive doesn't strike me as a very humane fate. I think I'll skip it from now on.