I'm just back from the comm lab — the place on campus that owns my soul, for those not in the know, although I serve willingly and extensively, for some disturbing reason.

Some weeks ago I was in the lab late one Sunday night doing set-ups and time cards, not unlike most any other Sunday night. Movement caught my eye — a mouse. Ridiculous how this harmless, tiny creature could put me so off my guard. Absolutely harmless, and if I'd taken a moment to think about it I would have known it. I shouldn't have said anything. But I spoke to my boss not two minutes later and I couldn't help but confess my fear and the cause.

So we had traps put in all over the lab. Four "humane" glue traps. The longer the mouse (mice, one really had to assume) evaded the traps the more upsetting the thought of catching one became. Soon I found myself rooting for him, delighting in his clever escape. I really didn't think he could be caught, and soon I forgot the traps were even there.

Tonight I came into the comm lab for I think the fifth time this weekend to find a note from my boss, after other various requests and instructions, informing us quite matter-of-factly that two mice had been caught in the trap by the desk. Sure enough.

Who knows how many hours they had lain there, writhing and gasping and nearly ripping their skin off trying to break free. Who knows how many hours more, if I didn't work Sundays. When would Physical Plant have bothered to come by? Would we all have to work with the poor things dying by our feet for a day?

I tried to pry them loose with a pencil. They seemed to realize somehow that I was trying to help, because they calmed down and stopped struggling. I managed to free a tail and part of a leg without causing too much pain, I hoped. But there really was no chance — the glue was far too strong for their little bodies. And when I saw the blood from where the one had nearly ripped his nose off, I couldn't really handle it anymore.

The only thing I could think to do was ask Josh for advice — my wonderful cool-headed animal-wise friend Josh. I was sobbing and incoherent and generally ridiculous, but he understands... he always does. I wanted him to kill them if nothing could be done, quickly and finally. He did what he had to do, and I thank him for it.

I am pretty sure those mice were babies and that there are more mice making Hermann their home. But I took all the remaining cruel traps with me. I am going to write Physical Plant an email asking them to stop using them. If I see them again I will take them again. They are not humane when animals can be trapped for hours or days until they die in agony. Not to mention, even if the mice had been found soon after capture, I do not trust Physical Plant to release them properly as the traps describe. They killed our raccoon. They will kill anything.

I think it really is possible that I care more for animals than people. Not more than my parents or Steven or Lani or Josh or Benjamin, but more than human beings in general. Much, sometimes. Much.