A Mouse Love Story Part II

I haven’t been able to write because everything is so bad in the world. Some of it is my anxiety (it’s hard for me to write when I am this anxious about things), but one reason is that it seems like a waste of time to tell people stories about chickens, ducks, turkeys, mice, green beans, and such when the world is falling apart. I feel instead, I should be writing exclusively about how to resist systems by growing your own food, repairing what you have instead of buying new, and creating local economic networks.

But I have ultimately decided that maybe telling stories about chickens, turkeys, and mice might be a necessary mental break for more than just myself. I hope I figure out a way to use Farmer-ish to help educate about self sufficiency and community, but maybe the stories are important too, just in a different kind of way.

With that in mind, I have another mouse love story to share.

A little before Halloween, we lost Cynthia, Jeremiah’s true love. I was heartbroken, as was Jeremiah. He wouldn’t eat and just sat in the corner and slept most of the day for several days. The only good part of the ordeal was that Cynthia, thankfully, seemed to pass without suffering after the recovery she had made last time. I knew that we were going to have to get Jeremiah a new friend.

We decided to go on Halloween to Petco and find our next girl. I thought all fancy mice were white, but to my surprise, there were a few little female fancy mice this day that were brown or spotted brown and white. They looked like tiny little teddy bears, and I was super excited to get one of these girls.

We picked the one that seemed curious about us, and I told my son and his girlfriend to keep an eye on our girl while I went to get a worker to get her out of the cage. While the worker fished her out of the cage, we explained why we were getting her. We told him about Jeremiah, our rescued white footed deer mouse and how we had just lost Cynthia at 16 months. We told him how this mouse was going to live in a cage but would be spoiled with everything from fresh blueberries from the farm to organic popcorn and would get to live out her life.

That young man was so happy.

“They’re usually for food,” he said.

“I know it,” I replied. “This one is getting a reprieve.”

Since it was Halloween, we decided to name her Samhain (pronounced sow-in) after the Celtic end-of-harvest celebration on October 31.

When we took her in her little box to the check out, the young man who had been helping up followed us up to tell the ladies working at the front that this one was going to be a pet and not food. They were so happy.

“We never get to see one that isn’t for food,” the lady checking us out said.

“Do you want to see her? She’s so cute?” the young man offered to the ladies up front.

My cautious self was against this. I thought, if my little mouse escapes into this store and I lose her, I am going to be pretty mad. Thankfully, she did not escape, and the ladies oohed and ahhed over her. We were all joyous–the Petco workers, my son and his girlfriend, and myself. It was like we all needed a little joy.

And it was awesome to share that joy with people working in the store.

It was definitely less joyful getting her introduced to Jeremiah. I forgot the rule that they have to be introduced on neutral territory, and Jeremiah attacked little Samhain.

But I got her right out, kept her in a separate cage for a few days, and then followed the proper procedure of introducing them on neutral territory in a large box. It worked, and Samhain was able to move in with Jeremiah.

It was not like it was with Cynthia. I think, no I know, Jeremiah was still sad and missing Cynthia. He seemed to understand he was stuck with this mouse, but he took her food away from her for the whole first day and ignored her when she tried to play with him. Samhain would cry, and I am sure my giant human ears could only hear part of it.

I worried that Jeremiah would never fully accept Samhain; thankfully, he did.

A few days later, I saw that Samhain was giving Jeremiah a bath on his ears and head just like little Cynthia used to do, and Jeremiah seemed not to mind. He also quit taking her food. Every now and then, he still tries, but Samhain just takes it right back. Just like Cynthia, Samhain rally loves freshly popped popcorn and will not stand for that being taken from her.

It’s different though. Samhain has so much more energy than Cynthia, even when Cynthia was younger. Cynthia was just a chill personality. Samhain is not. She is all over the cage, all over the toys, all over the bridges. She is also bouncing off Jeremiah at times, and I can see on his face that he is not a fan.

But I can also see it’s better than being alone. They snuggle up to sleep and put their little arms around each other.

Ron said Jeremiah, who may live long enough to see three or four fancy mouse friends, is like the Highlander. Highlander has eternal life but has to experience the heartbreak of losing his loves over and over again. It’s interesting to think that, with Jeremiah, this tiny little creature I fed with a paintbrush before he could open his eyes, I share the grief of losing Cynthia.

We both mourn her and miss her, but we are both thankful for little Samhain. She has been bringing joy from the moment I met her, and every day, when I feed her and Jeremiah, she gets so excited and now lets me pet her more than a little bit, not as much as Jeremiah, but quite a bit. Mostly, I just sit and watch her and smile, and for a little bit, I forget how scary the world is.

Sending love.

Please consider subscribing to the blog. It helps in our efforts to secure sponsors for the journal.