July 18th, 2007


Rene next door is being plagued by mice. She hears them scampering about in the attic and it terrifies her so much she's been sleeping on a couch downstairs. If this continues, she says, she'll put the house on the market.

We have mice too. Well, this is a terrace and there are gaps in the walls and if one house has mice they all do. In the old days when we kept cats it was a common occurence to find little, chewed-up corpses on the kitchen floor. Since the cats died out the mice have been bolder and every so often we'll catch sight of one. Our attitude is, "Aw look, how sweet!"

I had a toy mouse when I was a kid. He was about two inches long and my best friend. His name was Mouse. He lost an eye in a lawnmower related incident and I loved him all the more.  My sister and I had real mice too. They were called Archimedes and Jeremiah. 

Mice have always been among my favourite beasties- those soulful eyes, those whiffly noses.  I've never understood why some people hold them in such horror.