So it turns out I'm a wuss. Who knew? I have suddenly been humanised in the eyes of my friends, who have waited a year and a half for me to demonstrate a weakness. I am not comfortable with what I perceive as my own silliness, but I will qualify that by saying that I do feel that it's coming from an appropriate place, if overblown.
There is no trap or system that I yet know of that is "humane" no matter what the boxes say. Glue traps are a sick, sick idea, and the snappy thing doesn't always catch the neck... And anyone who thinks drying the thing out while it's alive by making it eat chemicals is equally twisted. I feel like a serial killer. I'm pretty sure this is a form of genocide. And there is a part of me that is well aware that I can NOT have vermin in my home, that I am equally unwilling to compromise my health and home for the sake of a pest. But it just wanted to get warm and be fed, right? And I've gone to DefCon3 and sought out species- specific toxins and become the Pol Pot of rodentiae. I'm pretty sure that I'm a horrible person on both counts. Either I should take them in and be loving (crazy veganist behaviour) or I should be able to kill them and move on with my life, accepting that they are 'disgusting,' which they aren't (cold-hearted genocidal behaviour).
By either metric, I fail on an epic level, so I spent the night at a friend's house after leaving my evil traps of doom behind me, laced with tempting cranberry peanut peanut butter. Only the best for your last meal, little friends. And I sit at a kitchen table not my own, dreaming of the cat I will soon invite to live with me and thinking of ways to assuage my troubled conscience.