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On a peaceful Sunday afternoon of work at a rural Vermont confectionary shop, a wonderful mouse met a tragic end.<br><br><br><br>
I had to move aside a large door that had come unfastened from the lower cabinets to get to a certain box of chocolates, and was horrified to discover the sad remains of Kirk, the most kind-hearted of all mice.<br><br><br><br>
For the last two weeks he had made my unbearable and unsatisying high school job a little bit more fun, made the workload a little lighter, and made the non-vegan chocolate a little less smelly. I remember when he first ran out from under the pantries and looked at me with his tiny eyes. I fed him oat bran sesame sticks, and in the meantime waited patiently for my mom to purchase our PETA approved mouse trap.<br><br><br><br>
But we were too late. The last day I was at work I found him - poor little Kirk, crushed to death by a cruel metal wire.<br><br><br><br>
Trying hard not to be too upset by the sight, I proceeded to search every inch of the store for other moustraps, and smacked them with a roll of wallpaper to set each one off. One broke. That one was for Kirk.<br><br><br><br>
What else can I do? I know the owner as well as anyone could - she's a mean, shrew old woman who would not care if a person were snapped in half under a wire. There's no reasoning. I'd hoped to put my own mousetrap in to catch Kirk and free him into a field a few miles away. But after talking with more experienced employees, I've learned that this wouldn't fly either. Is there any way to spare the lives of Kirk's buddies?<br><br><br><br>
-Maureen<br><br>
 
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