Sunday, February 27, 2005

No Respect

A fellow mouse lover wrote on a mouse list today,
Rodents are like the Rodney Dangerfield of pets: they never get any respect. Even some of my friends who were very supportive of me during my dog and cat years can't understand how I can possibly love feral little ghetto mice. But, my mice remind me of a quote I read by Mother Teresa: "We cannot do great things on this earth, we can only do small things with great love." Somehow, taking care of somebody so much smaller always makes me feel closer to Somebody so much bigger. And you're right about what an antidote to depression that is.
So true. You out of yourself when you have responsibilities, even if they are to God's smallest creatures. Everything has a purpose, whether we understand it or not.

Another list member shared this, about what happened after one of her mice died recently...
Today I walked past the girls' cage and (I swear to God this is true) the door of their cage flew open and I was hit on the side of the leg by one of their wooden toy blocks. One of them managed to wack the door or hurl the block hard enough to open it just as I was walking past. The 2 of them were then sitting in the doorway glaring at me as if to say, "You forgot about us!!!!!" They really made me laugh, but I'm also reinforcing their door. And paying more attention to them.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Our Little (Furry) Angels

A fellow mouse lover shared with those of us on a mouse list today...
My first and long lived mouse sesshomaru died in my hand this morning around 3. I found him in his cage last night at 9 and stayed with him all through the night till he passed. he lived a year adn 8 months my little boy that started my love for mice and rats alike. He will be missed truely.
I was very touched, and wrote back to her...
My sincerest condolences to you on Sesshomaru's passing. My partner and I have our first batch of mice right now, and our one mouse, Mabel (who is actually a boy) we dread terribly the day he leaves us. Just last night he sat with us watching TV, laying in Christopher's hand while I gently stroked his cheek (he loves that!) He's quite the character...

Saturday, February 12, 2005


Christopher and I are dreading the day that our first batch of little ones begin to leave us. We try to make each day and each moment special for them. Just last night I was watching Christopher hold Mabel (our only boy) in his right hand as he typed with his left hand on his laptop. I was behind them about 10 feet, and they were in mostly silouette with the light in front of them, but I could see these two friends communing - Christopher on the left looking at the computer screen, and Mabel on the right contentedly laying in Chris' palm with his head on his paws, looking towards Chris...

Sunday, February 06, 2005

This Old Mouse

As usual I worry about things that I am often told I should not worry about.

This Old Mouse

Usually Pudding would be the type of of mouse that would squirm and run away when I grab for her. Last night I noticed she was laying by herself and when I reached for her she just looked up, blinked and then put her head back down. I picked her up and she sniffed me for a second and then put her head back down and curled up, seemingly contented to go to sleep. She felt slightly cold, especially her tail. I offered her some bread crumbs which she sniffed and nibbled on for a second or two and then put down and went back to sleep. I noticed she appeared to be becoming greyer around her nose and parts of her face. I held her for awhile, worried and was told not to worry, as I let her snuggle and sleep.
Eventually I put her back in the cage hoping that she would crawl into one of the nests and snuggle in with some of her children. I looked in on her after a while and did find her in one of the sleeping areas, snuggling with one of the Quimby mouses and Dixie mouse, appearing to be contently asleep. I went to bed and tried not to worry that I would wake up the next day to find Pudding no long in this world.
In the morning I found Pudding contently snuggled up inside a tissue paper tube and greatly annoyed with me for waking her up. I placed some smaller dishes throughout the cages with an assortment of the yummy seeds and watched as she hustled her way in to grab some choice seeds away from her children and the other adult female.
Pudding appears to be holding her own very well. Trish has suspected Pudding may actually be the oldest of the adult mice and Pudding is starting to not only show her age, but, acting it in her seemingly wanting to be held and snuggled.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

little itchy mousies

hist whist

hist whist
little ghost things
twinkle toe

witches and tingling
hob-a-nob hob-a-nob

little hoppy happy
toad in tweeds
little itchy mousies

with scuttling
eyes rustle and run and

whisk look out for the old woman
with the wart on her nose
what she'll do to yer
nobody knows

for she knows the devil ooch
the devil ouch
the devil
ach the great




I ran across this poem on a mouse website I greatly admire, and consult on a regular basis, for information on our furry little friends. I also happen to love the writings of e.e. cummings. Discovering that cummings had written a poem mentioning mice was a wonderful find!