Manny A. Mouse

I had a chat with one of the basement mice last night.  I was looking for a snack in the garbage and he came flying out!  Whew!  Scared the Puppy Mill outta me!

Turned out he was a friend of mine.  Name was  Manny A. Mouse.  I recognized him from last year. 

All of our basement mice are snowbirds.  You know, they live outside in the summer and then when winter comes they move into the basement for the season.  Wow, time flies.  Seems just like yesterday we were sitting under the table laughing about the two mice who walked into a bar.  I asked him how he was and he got all agitated.

 “Well I’ll tell you Libby.  This has been a rough year.  First they say we eat too much of their food.  Which is frankly ridiculous.”  He stood up on his hind legs.  “I mean look at me?  Do I look like I could eat that much?  I eat like a mouse for Mole's sake.

Then they say we leave little black dots all over.  Now you tell me.  Are these little tiny dots anything to complain about?”  He added to a trail of dots behind him.

I tried to explain to him that humans don’t like anybody’s dots, not even my big ones, but he wasn’t listening.

”And now they say we’re carrying West Nile Virus ticks.  That is the most ignorant accusation I have ever heard.  I for one have never even been outa this town, let alone to Egypt.  And I don’t know a mouse who has. I ‘ve heard some rats jumped ship there once, but mice?  Never.  And, as far as Ticks are concerned, I don’t carry ticks or anybody else.  I ain’t no squeakin bellhop for Rat’s sake!  Those humans are nuts.”  

I nodded.  “ I’m surprised they know the difference between a gerbil and a hamster.”

He flicked a piece of dried spaghetti into his mouth.  “Right, besides that, I don’t know a single Tick who has ever been to Egypt either.  Most of ‘em never even leave the back yard.  This whole thing is just another cooked up story to get rid of us.” 

Now, I personally have a phobia about ticks, even the ones who have never traveled to the Mideast.  So, just to be on the safe side, I backed up a little.

He spit out his spaghetti and snapped at me,  “Oh, you too now?  Look Libby, I am not a terrorist.  I don’t know any terrorists.  I never even saw a terrorist!”

 I thought that was a little disingenuous.   “Well Manny,” I said, “let’s be realistic.  I’ve seen plenty of pictures with ladies on chairs screaming in terror when you walk by.”

 “Oh that hyped up story,” he said”, that’s just an old husband’s tale to make you think women are weak.  I’ve scared just as many men believe me.” 

“See?”  I said.

”Okay, let’s change the subject.” 

Manny can be conflict negative sometimes.  “The point is I am just fed up to here with this.  I mean, what do they want us to do?  Move to Florida?  Oh sure.  I can see it now.

’Please sir, may I have one galley class ticket to Miami?’“

 He rolled his eyes.  “Have you seen airport security these days?   Forget it!  I’d never get through.  I’d be arrested in a minute.  And I REFUSE to take a train.  The noise, the sudden stops, the tight kitchen security.  No way.  And I sure ain’t walkin’!”

He put the spaghetti back in his mouth.  

“I love Italian don’t you?”

 “Yeah.”  I said.  ”But I see what you mean.  Being arrested is no fun.  I was incarcerated for ten years in a jail in Pennsylvania.  The prison conditions were deplorable!  Thank Dog  A TAIL TO TELL  rescued me.  They are good people.  That’s how I got to live up here.”

Manny hopped out of a butter dish and looked me right in the eye.  “Well, I’m sorry about your ordeal, but do you know what kinda jail they send us mice to IF we’re lucky enough to escape capital punishment?  We get sent to Guantano-labs!  You think you were tortured?  Forget about it!”

I wondered what could be worse than a Puppy Mill.  So, I asked him, “What happened to you?“

Mickey H Christ!  Don’t you read newspapers?  Shocks, mazes, cages, students!  I don’t wanna think about it.”  He looked really annoyed at me.

 I didn’t want to tell him what I do with newspapers.  So I just listened.

 “Anyway,“  he said. “we were lucky enough to escape from Cornell in a lab coat.  They were sending it to the laundry.  So Minnie and I just jumped out on the way.”

“Minnie?  You’re married?  I didn’t know that.”

“You never asked.  Yup, we got married in Psych. 101.”

“Any kids?”

He put a big grin on his face.  “Forty seven so far.  Give or take”

 “Well,” I said”, that’s something you and I have in common now.  We were both kept in a cage.  We were both tortured.  And we both made a lotta kids.”

“Yeah.”  He smiled and closed his eyes for a second.  “You should see our youngest.  She’s got these tiny little pink claws...  Thank the Mighty Mouse we all ended up in this place.”

I nodded agreement.  “Mrs. Stillman doesn’t ever put down mouse traps”

“And she would never use rat poison.” he said.  “When I shop here, I know whatever I feed my family will be safe.”

Manny threw me a piece of carrot cake.  ”Now if we could just get rid of that monster cat who lives here.” 

“Ugh!”  I said reflexively.  “He’s so annoying.  Every time he comes home he has to bump me right in the nose.”

 ”And then he comes prowling around my basement!”  “He scares the night lights outa the kids!”  Manny’s nose was twitching like crazy.

 I tried to soothe him “Do you like cat pie?”

 “I like any kind of pie!”  Manny perked up.

 “Well”, I said, “I’m trying to get all the ingredients together.  There are seven cats next door.  And when I do, I’ll save you a piece.”

  (I didn’t dare offer him my bunny bisque or my equally delicious squirrel soup.  I happen to know that some of those ingredients are his relatives).

”Thanks.” he said.  “I’d like that.”

 It was starting to get light so Manny ran up the clock,  ”Oh my goodness.  It’s so late.  I gotta go.  My family is waiting on me for breakfast.” 

“Okay.”  I said.  “If Mrs. Stillman falls asleep on the couch again, I’ll give you a bark.”

Manny nodded as he hoisted an entire bagel onto his back.  “Okay pal.  Do that.  See ya when.”

And then he was gone, quick as a mouse.