Eastenders: Mouse Terrorizes Walford!

NOTE: I am a huge Eastenders fan since the beginning of the show 20 years ago. The story below is courtesy of the BBC Eastender's website...

It was early evening in the Queen Vic, and Trish was settling down to a pint of Guinness. The pub was filling up and Alfie was enjoying some banter with the locals.

All of a sudden, Christopher burst into the bar, after a hard day's work as a top class Caretaker. Christopher was out of breath, and gasped, "Help us out mate. There's a bit of trouble at the launderette – Pauline's tearing her hair out!"

"Sorry love, I can't. I’ve got to play Charades round at Roberts with the Slaters", Trish exclaimed . "Oh, be a mate ", pleaded Christopher "there's an enormous Mouse sitting outside the launderette, and no-one can get their service washes back!"

"Alright" sighed Trish. "Seeing as you're a mate I'll help you out". "Cheers," said Christopher, "I need to get my pants back before tomorrow."

They rushed round to Bridge Street as fast as their little legs could carry them. Sure enough, there was a great big Mouse glued to the spot. Dot was trying to tempt it away from the door, but the Mouse snarled and roared.

As if from nowhere, Billy appeared outside the launderette, brandishing a Potato! The Mouse pulled itself up to its full height, and towered over him. It rolled its eyes and lunged at Billy, swiping the Potato away. Trish and Christopher shook in terror, fearing what the Mouse might do next...

The Mouse munched on the Potato, and then spotted the fruit and veg stall. It lunged but toppled backwards and crashed through the launderette's door.

Trish gasped as a flurry of clothes rained down from the sky. Alfie ran out into the street and was blinded as Christopher's pants flew into his face! "Never mind," said Pauline. "I'll put the kettle on."

The Mouse ran off towards Roberts as Trish, Christopher and Alfie collapsed in fit of giggles.

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.

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...

Communion

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...

This Old Mouse

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



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.

little itchy mousies

hist whist
e.e.cummings

hist whist
little ghost things
tip-toe
twinkle toe

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

little hoppy happy
toad in tweeds
tweeds
little itchy mousies

with scuttling
eyes rustle and run and
hidehidehide

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

green
dancing
devil
devil

devil
devil

wheeEEE

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!

Special Friends

I have loved animals all my life, once was driven to become a veterinarian, but didn't. I fill my life now with mice and a budgie. I am touched by the love between animal and man, like these sentiments expressed recently on a mouse list I belong to...

I have had many, many mice since College Mouse passed on, but he remains the most extraordinary mouse I ever owned. None of my other beauties approached him in intelligence and human-like personality, but after him I have been crazy about mice. It is now very hard to get mice in my state, and I guess I will have to drive to Chicago, Pennsylvania, or Maryland to get my next batch.

Life has become a little more complicated in my household - my adult daughter had to move in with us, and she brought her...er...cat. The cat is restless and needs to be given the run of the house, so I have to keep my mice rotated between the extra bedroom and the master bedroom (always locked, of course!) The cat thinks she is at one of those Chinese restaurants where you get to point out which fish or lobster you would like for your dinner from the tank.

I am sure you remember your famous Digger the Wild fondly. Hardly a day goes by when I don't think of College Mouse sitting expectantly on my desk at work waiting for a bite of my salad, or running back and forth with a jumbo paper clip in his mouse. We had some very special pets!

Mabel becomes a 'Cover Girl'... 

[I didn't have the heart to tell them that Mabel is a boy...besides, he IS adorable as they said!]

Gang of Five

An online human acquaintance from a mouse group I belong to posted a very cute post this morning about his mice:

Well, I spent a lousy week in hospital with medical problems irrelevant to this group, but during my absence my friend Elspeth filled in admirably as mouse mother, so all's well that ends well. All mice are named, and here's the run down for the gang of five:

Roan is known as "*Jesus, Mouse! The Silver Streak.
She is the smallest, albeit not the youngest, at the
bottom of the totem, and the first to come to the
outstretched hand of the master. She's adventurous
and explorative to the max, which makes her fun.
Having established her position -- or lack thereof --
she seems quite well adjusted all in all. *Jesus, Mouse!
jumped headlong into a near empty small tea cup
and then tried the same trick again 20 minutes
later when the teacup was full. One third soaked,
and none the worse for wear.

Genie is known as "Billy Ruben Leek" She's the biggest,
albeit not the oldest, as dumb as a box of rocks,
but 100 percent lovable. And middle mouse on the
totem as far as I can see. She seems to have more
loose skin than the others -- fur is sleek and bright --
so I wonder if she's gonna be really big.

"Anthocite Annie," the black mouse of the bunch,
achieves outage by crawling up the back of my
hand and up my arm, even when nearly
a 90 degree angle to the cage floor. This is real
odd because the only other mouse I'd ever had that
did this was also the only other black mouse I'd
ever owned. Annie has been known to treat my
finger as a mouse that needs discipline, but she
always realizes her mistake rather quickly, and has
never gotten more than an aggressive squeeze in.
I think this is due to the fact that she and "Gen Mai
Cha" are still contesting first place.

Alpha Mouse of the moment, Siamese known as
"Gen Mai Cha," is a poor excuse for a Siamese,
having points but a white (fox) belly and some
dark spots here and there on her back; definitely
"pet" quality, but who cares? She's an I'll do what
I want and I'll do it right now kind of a mouse, the
kind of mouse you can man handle without causing
any hurt mouse feelings, a mouse secure in herself...
I think. Every once in awhile she gets tremendously
over-bossy and includes me in the disciplinary process,
which, like Annie, she quickly acknowledges as a bad
mistake.

"Chakravartin" is a yellow-brown beauty, but I worry
about her. First, she's not as tame as the others, and
I've seen her sleeping alone, although usually she
has at least one and often two sleeping fellows. I hear
her make mouse noises on occasion -- the purposeful
kind, not the sort of noise that would indicate respiratory
infection. But, I'm watching her carefully. I need to go
out of my way to scoop her up. The others love out.
BTW, I usually put mice *very* close to my ear to try
to hear those noises that mean trouble.

Annie taught Elspeth to run the tip of her finger around
a table and up and down her arm. Annie rewards Elspeth
for successful finger moving by following quickly
wherever the finger leads. They are both most amused.

Hamsters in Hats

These little guys were so sweet, I had to share them with loyal readers of this blog. They belong to Heather, who loves to Crochet, as you can tell. Her hamsters are the "lucky" recipients of her handiwork. I wrote Heather to ask if she can make mouse-sized hats. I can just imagine Mabel now, muttering away...!!