tim'rous beastie

I confess, when it comes to small furries, I’m a soft touch! Voles, harvest mice, wood mice… Rats? Not so keen on. So when the cat was patting something between the plant trays I went to investigate. Kneeling down, cat behind, me in front, mouse made a bolt, “where?” I wondered. Couldn’t make it up, laughing and trying to call for aid I staggered into the house. “What’s up?” concerned family ask. Doubled over with laughter; manage to blurt out; “There’s a mouse in my trousers!” Sudden rush for cameras and phones – thanks for the concern. As mouse climbs higher nothing for it but disrobe, mouse drops out and immediately rushes up the other leg. Poor mouse, cat, dark place, paparazzi, no wonder he looks a “wee, sleekit, cow’rin, tim’rous beastie

Friend did ask “so, why didn’t you go into the bathroom and shut the door?”

Me : “There was a mouse in my trousers!

Poor mouse, spent the rest of the day and night cowering under the sofa, to be caught at dawn by aforesaid cat, this time deposited in the bedroom. But all’s well that ends well. Mouse eventually caught in humane trap and popped under the shed. A Mouse’s tale, a terrible warning for all mice, beware the cat, beware places of apparent safety and peanut butter traps….