I'm worried about Maynard. When I told my mother some months ago that I had a mouse living behind the dishwasher here at the cabin, she said, "Time to get some Decon." "You must have me confused with your sane daughter, the one who doesn't rescue spiders from the tub and ferry them to safety in the garage," I said. To be clear, I am an only child. "You can't live with a mouse in your house," she said. "And where there's one, there are always more." "Nope. There's just the one," I said. "I'm sure of it." "They carry diseases," she said. "I read about a woman somewhere near where you live, New Mexico or Wyoming, and she contracted some horrible disease from rodents." "Hantavirus?" "That's it!" "If my mouse had hantavirus, I'd be in the ICU or dead by now. And anyway, operation relocation is underway, ...