The Prodigal Mouse

It all began two winter storms ago when I had all 6 children sick with h1n1 or John 3:16 or something like that. The wind howled outside while fevers raged inside. And downstairs when no one was around two mischievous cats sneaked into a bedroom to secretly devour two little mice. Hiding in the cage were Dawn the White and Dusk. If it weren't for a request from Dear Mama for daughter #1 to go downstairs to fetch her poor brother a bone...ahem...his water bottle we never would have known what had happened and both Dawn and Dusk would have been lost to us.

Well...when daughter #1 went downstairs she walked into a room of terror...the boys room! Underwear and socks were everywhere and from beneath one pile came a scream...a mouse's scream Quickly lifting the crusty sock from the heap she beheld Dawn the White (no relation to Gandalf). She brought a slightly injured and shaken mouse upstairs to her owner, but Dusk could not be found. We feared the worst. Dawn the White recovered quite well, and to our surprise became a mother the very next morning. This was a miracle since both mice were female!

A week later Daughter #2 realized there was a little black mouse living in her heater. Could it be? It was Dusk! But she wouldn't come. She was only concerned about taking her inheritance of sunflower seeds left over from the cat attack. She ran from the hands that had lovingly fed her and held her. The hands that had so gently placed her running wheel in her cage for hours and hours AND HOURS...in the wee hours...of pleasure.

Finally, yesterday after the Queen Mother (that's me:) returned from picking up the royal children from classes in her 15 passenger "chariot" she saw the black cat with a stick. NO! It was a TAIL!!! It was Dusk!!! Dusk trying to return. A repentant Dusk (especially after we rescued her). She knew she was not worthy to ask daughter #3 (who was bequeathed Dawn the White after the fiasco during the snow storm) to be her pet, but perhaps she'd be allowed to serve the little mice growing in the cage. Daughter #3 came running when she heard the Prodigal Mouse had been found. She brought her food and water in silver bowls (well...stainless steel is silver!) and gave her her own box of shavings to rest her weary bones in. The other mice looked on. They'd only been able to eat out of a glass bowl. If they had only asked...I mean...well...Dusk is home again and that's what matters (though she probably would still be a Prodigal Mouse if not for that darn cat!).

The End