Of mice and children
Most moms would have freaked out at the sight of a mouse running out from under the refrigerator. Especially at the tail end of a party, with guests still there. But not me.
One our guests caught the little creature with his bare hands, and I fetched a container to put it in. We all stared at it for awhile and pronounced it Too Cute to toss outside into the elements. Instead, we gave it a few pieces of food, and decided to buy it a little cage the next day, if it was still looking healthy.
So now we have our eighth pet, joining a cat, two rats, a fish, a snail, and two tarantulas. He (or she?) seems to be happy enough, eating his food and running on his tiny exercise wheel. My daughter named "her" Sugar, and my son named "him" Drake. I haven't been able to hold it long enough to see which of my children chose correctly. Perhaps we'll never know for sure. I'm not even completely sure that it's a mouse - there's a possibility it could be a vole. Whatever it is, I know we'll all be enjoying its company - and I'll be the one cleaning its cage.
One our guests caught the little creature with his bare hands, and I fetched a container to put it in. We all stared at it for awhile and pronounced it Too Cute to toss outside into the elements. Instead, we gave it a few pieces of food, and decided to buy it a little cage the next day, if it was still looking healthy.
So now we have our eighth pet, joining a cat, two rats, a fish, a snail, and two tarantulas. He (or she?) seems to be happy enough, eating his food and running on his tiny exercise wheel. My daughter named "her" Sugar, and my son named "him" Drake. I haven't been able to hold it long enough to see which of my children chose correctly. Perhaps we'll never know for sure. I'm not even completely sure that it's a mouse - there's a possibility it could be a vole. Whatever it is, I know we'll all be enjoying its company - and I'll be the one cleaning its cage.