This is not about anything in particular, it’s just a story.
Years ago, I got mice in my house. It was a cold, wet winter, and I live by a stream, and they discovered a place that was warm and dry. They invited themselves in. They sometimes left tiny packages for me to clean up. I sometimes spied them scurrying around, at night. One startled a woman I was getting to know. She was pretty cute. The mice were becoming annoying.
I’m not into killing things. I bought some Hav-a-Hart traps, and actually caught several of the mice. Whenever I did, I drove out to an open field, and set them free. It didn’t matter. They kept coming in. I think they may have had email or PM capabilities. Anyway, the word was out that my house was warm and dry and that I didn’t kill them. After a while, I started to think I should. But I didn’t.
Eventually, I made a thorough inspection of the outside of my home, and figured out how they were getting in. I plugged the holes. Problem solved. I didn’t kill any of them, and they stopped bothering me.
It was a cold, wet winter, and I don’t know what happened to the mice. I have neighbors. Maybe they invaded their homes. Judging from the number of mice, though, my house wasn’t essential to their survival. It was just easy.
I suppose I could feel badly for not having been more friendly and welcoming to the mice. I don’t.