On Monday night, I couldn't sleep.
I think I know why, too. Turns out it's really hard to catch some shuteye when there's a three-day-old bloody, decaying mouse carcass just feet from your nose. The persistent sound of its living brethren scurrying around the stuff underneath your bed doesn't make things any easier. Even reading is not a viable solution if the drawer containing your books and magazines has previously played host to an extremely loose-boweled mouse.
So where do I live? Well, I'm not studying abroad in the New York subway system. I'm not even living off-campus in a grungy Somerville neighborhood. Nope, I live in the Latin Way A420s.
Since before spring break, my neighbors and I have been living in the company of a very large extended family of mice. We remember them in mid-March, when they were small enough to run underneath our closed doors. We recall early April, when they began to grow and mature. They're almost like family now, except for the fact that it makes us happy when one gets killed by a blunt metal object puncturing its rib cage.
And therein lies the problem. Actually, before the bad stuff, here's what's good about Tufts Facilities' response to our dilemma: the guy who comes to set and change the traps (when he comes) is really friendly and really optimistic. So are the people who answer the phone when I call.
The bad, though, is absolutely everything else. Last Friday night, one of my traps captured a victim in a particularly gruesome manner. Since I don't know how to clean and reset traps myself (frankly, I came to Tufts to learn other things) it was going to remain there until Facilities arrived to remove it.
But Facilities doesn't operate on weekends.
By Sunday night, the smell was pretty bad, and I was anxious to give them a ring the next day. I did, and was disappointed when they did not show up at all on Monday. Maybe they needed a day's notice this time. But then came Tuesday with still no Facilities guy and a profoundly intense odor. As of this writing, there's still no sign of him.
Yes, I could dispose of the dead mouse myself. But - excuse the whiny tone - I really, really don't like rodents. Have you seen the movie Willard?
Of course, if this were a one-time occurrence, I would have no basis for complaining. But Tufts' response has consistently been stunningly inadequate. First, more often than not, the mice eat the food off Facilities' traps without so much as a sore paw. I don't know why they're able to do so, but with the food gone, the traps lose their effectiveness until Facilities returns, often days later.
Beyond that, the mice's livelihood depends on their ability to travel between our rooms through holes that have formed in the walls underneath our heaters. Facilities has conceded that this is a problem that needs to be fixed, but says it won't be able to address it until after the semester ends. Tufts also prohibits the use of poison to kill rodents because of the alleged risk that they will choose to die indoors and emit the now-familiar stench as they decay.
In fairness to Tufts, my dad - who has always been vehemently angry in cases of institutions slighting their clients through malice or incompetence - called some administrators against my will, and they eventually even offered him a second room for me to stay in on campus (but couldn't guarantee I wouldn't be moving into a half-occupied double).
For obvious reasons, that's far from an ideal solution. And given the severity of our problem-my traps have caught six mice over more than a month, with an unknown but presumed large quantity still remaining - it seems that more
drastic action is in order. After all, our infestation should not be an insurmountable problem. Professional extermination services do exist, and the University has an obligation to provide on-campus students with comfortable, sanitary living environments.
I don't have a larger point to make. I like Tufts overall, and I heartily agree with Daily columnist Keith Barry's contention that we all owe a debt of gratitude to the employees who make this campus operate. In my experience, most Tufts departments do a marvelous job day in and day out - find me a campus dining hall with pizza better than Dewick's and I'll transfer a month before graduation.
Still, Facilities, at least in this case, has performed for Tufts about as well as Busta Rhymes.
Dave Nagler is a senior majoring in quantitative economics.
