I schlepped a bag of Goodwill donations out to my SUV in the backyard garage. Unwilling to make a second trip, I also carried a large, reusable grocery bag, my ten-pound purse and a water bottle. Stowing everything in the vehicle, I thankfully slid behind the wheel and pressed the car’s start button. Recognizing me, or rather, the key fob in my purse, the engine in the smart car immediately jumped to life.

I shifted to reverse and backed out of the garage. The engine of my car usually purrs like a kitten, but not today. It was going, “Ugha-ugha-ugha!” Then, an unfamiliar computer message on the dashboard suddenly popped up on the screen.

Forgetting the errands I had planned to do; I drove straight to the dealership where I had bought the car. After the mechanic there did a brief examination, he said, “There’s a mouse nest in the engine compartment and the mice who live there chewed on several important wires and harnesses that bundle the wires together. Your car isn’t safe to be driven until it’s fixed.”

There was a distinct, dirty smell of mouse droppings in the car when it came back from the garage. Why hadn’t I noticed that smell before it needed fixing? Maybe it was the power of suggestion. My ability to smell things other than orange peels and basil is very poor.

One day that week I found a dead mouse in the trunk. Picking it up with two pieces of cardboard and putting it in the garbage can, I reflected on what the mechanic said I could do to repel mice. Apparently, to dissuade mice from setting up a home in the engine compartment again, I should stuff dryer sheets in various nooks and crannies around the engine. He never told me where to tuck the dryer sheets. I worried that if I put them in the wrong place, I’d cause an engine compartment fire!

One hot summer day shortly after having my car repaired, I turned on my mini-split air conditioner. One of the air conditioner heads worked and the other one didn’t. Not wanting to swelter, I called the repairman. The repairman came and fixed what was wrong, but then it stopped working again soon after he left. Driving into my yard the second time that afternoon, he commented that he’d just seen something disappearing into one end of the casing that shelters the wires leading to the malfunctioning unit.

Taking the protective casing off the wires revealed extreme damage done by mice. All the foam insulation, plastic and fabric coverings on the wires were chewed away, making the equipment unable to function. After the damage was repaired, we debated different methods to stop the mice from doing more damage. I bought a can of expanding spray foam that repels mice from a local home supply store. The repairman sprayed the foam into the open end of the casing for me. I hope it works.

Around the time I was having my car and my air conditioner fixed, my sister Agnes, who lives nine miles away from me, was telling me about all the mice she was killing in mouse traps at her house.

I claimed, “I don’t have any mice in my house.”

Agnes doubtfully questioned, “Are you sure?”

One night recently, I woke up at three in the morning. Before I could go back to sleep, I heard a scritch-scratching noise that seemed to be coming from inside the bedroom walls. I wondered if it was a mouse, but I stoutly denied the possibility. Besides, if there was a mouse inside the wall, what was there I could do about it at three in the morning?

It was hard going back to sleep, but I managed heroically.

Mice are clearly on my property, but so far, I haven’t found any signs of mouse damage in my house. That might be because there isn’t any, or because I haven’t been looking for it closely enough. It takes a rare, unprecedented skill to deny the realities of life when there is so much data.