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"But wouldn't it be easier to catch him with a trap or with poison?" suggested my mother. 

"Come with me to the Casita and take away what you think you will need for the day, I can't promise to finish soon. Then leave me alone and for no reason come around there making noise, for no reason, understood?"

It was decided that we would all move to the pool, bringing sandwiches and drinks. We returned to the House at dusk. A profound silence reigned everywhere. Sucked into an armchair I already imagined that I would spend the night there when a shot was heard. We rushed out. 

Papa left the Casita and came towards us. In one hand he held the rifle and in the other the dead mouse by the tail. We congratulated him.

"It wasn't easy." he smiled satisfied. He sat on one of the steps in front of the house, shotgun in his arms, mouse at his feet. "I was seated in the chair. I saw the mouse come to the window, but the mouse also saw me. It immediately went back to the rear. So I took up position where he could not see me, in the staircase, with the shotgun resting on the last step. But I must have moved because as soon as the mouse looked out the window, he immediately decided to retreat. So I lay on the ground, hidden by the bed, shotgun well supported, so that I could shoot without moving. Well, come on, I thought. Nothing. If you old bastard hope to tire me, you are wrong, I thought. Finally he came to the window, twice. But only in reconnaissance, without ever deciding to advance in the open. The third time he went inside. I have executed him well, not even a light bulb or a broken vase. How about a bottle of grape sauce to celebrate? I am very thirsty. And maybe a little hungry too..."

Mary, followed by mum and Gianfranco, immediately went to...