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
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!).