Tag: mice

A Mouse Love Story Part II

~ Crystal Sands ~ 8 Comments

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.

This is Jeremiah. He’s all eyes and ears.

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.

This is little Samhain, and I’m telling you pictures do not do her justice.

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.

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A Mouse Love Story

~ Crystal Sands ~ 6 Comments

In May of 2024, my son rescued a tiny deer mouse with eyes still closed. It was after a big storm had blown through our area, and there, partially in a puddle in our driveway, was a tiny white-footed deer mouse.

My son had just been diagnosed with long COVID, so when he brought the tiny mouse inside in a shoe box, I told him it would be too much work and that he should put the mouse back, near where he found him. “Maybe the mama will come find him somehow,” I said. “But we don’t need another animal.”

My son didn’t say much, but that night, after I went to bed, I heard the blender going. I got up, went downstairs to the kitchen, and there was my son “making a mouse formula” from the recipe he found on the internet. The shoe box was sitting on the kitchen counter, and I hung my head because I knew what we were doing.

I looked in the box, and I could see why my son insisted on rescuing this little baby. It was so tiny and barely moving. I thought it was so likely to die but understood the need to try. We started researching and estimated the mouse to be about 9 days old. I told my son he would have to get up every two to three hours to feed the mouse, and he agreed. I was so worried about this because my son was so sick, but my son did it. The next morning, the mouse, with eyes still closed, was moving around better and liked to be held already.

After that first night, I agreed to take turns on the shifts to allow my son to get some rest. It was during those shifts that I fell deeply in love with this little mouse. We fed him goat milk and homemade formula from a paint brush. When that little baby (my son named him Jeremiah) opened his eyes and looked at me, I was in so much trouble.

But this is not that love story.

We learned from our research that a lone deer mouse will be too lonely. The. best way to give Jeremiah a companion was to go to the pet store and buy a fancy mouse, in particular a female because they would get along better. And because a deer mouse and a fancy mouse are different species, they cannot breed. I checked this about a thousand times and from like a hundred sources. I did not want mouse babies.

My son and I went to the store and bought Cynthia. She was a tiny little thing and so beautiful. But when we brought her home, Jeremiah was terrified. He ran up my arm, shaking, and hid in my sleeve. I drug him out and put him in the cage with Cynthia, only I put a clear plastic divider between them, so they could meet without having to actually touch each other.

The next morning, I found them sleeping side by side against the divider, and I figured I could take out the divider. I did, and Jeremiah and Cynthia fell in love. Jeremiah will usually share his food with her, which is saying something because he’s a foodie and a hoarder, and Cynthia gives Jeremiah baths. They cuddle up all the time and are the best of friends.

I love to study their differences. Cynthia has small eyes, a small head, and is all body. Meant for pet food, I am thankful to know her and thankful we saved her from a different fate. She is the sweetest creature and lets me pet her more than Jeremiah does now. She doesn’t store food like Jeremiah. She lives in the moment.

Jeremiah is all eyes and ears and head. His proportions are so different from hers. He’s sweet but wilder and loves to play and play and play. He also loves to hoard. He eats a little and stores a lot from his dinner every night. I always find a giant stash of nuts when I clean the cage, which makes Jeremiah panic. He hates when I take his stash, but I always give him more to start a new one.

Sadly, Cynthia’s life will be much shorter than Jeremiah’s. While a deer mouse in captivity can live 4 to 5 years, sometimes even more, a fancy mouse lives 12-18 months in most cases. Cynthia is 16 months old. A couple of weeks ago, I thought we were going to lose her.

She has been having health problems off and on all summer, but two weeks ago, I thought we had surely come to the end. Her abdomen was bloated terribly, like really terribly, and she was struggling with her breathing. I could see from the look in her eyes that she was really struggling. I read that the issue was likely tumors in her abdomen and that this happens near the end of a fancy mouse’s life. There is nothing that can be done. I also spent time researching the most humane way to kill a suffering mouse. Interestingly, it is what I thought it would be and what we do for other animals on the farm, but oh my gosh, I couldn’t do it.

On the second day of her being in terrible shape, I told Ron that I wanted to give her one more day, just in case. During her days of suffering, Jeremiah never left her side. Jeremiah was definitely the reason I said to give her one more day. He is usually wild and bouncy and plays in the wheels in their cage, bouncing from one to the other, but he was very serious about Cynthia. I checked on her about ten times a day, and every time I was in there, he was with her looking so very worried. He had his little head on her head and seemed so distraught.

I was so very worried.

I told my son we would likely have to get Jeremiah a new girl soon. My son said his goodbyes to Cynthia the night before the third day. I did as well.

And, the next morning, as soon as Ron had time after morning chores, he found a little box to put her in, and we went to the cage to get her to end her pain. It was a devastating feeling.

But, there, walking slowly but looking about half the size she looked the night before, Cynthia looked at us with bright eyes for the first time in days. She was walking, was not nearly so bloated and swollen, and you could see in her eyes that she felt better. Ron and I were both shocked! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

“I think that was Jeremiah’s magic,” I said. “I think he willed her to get better.”

Then, I thought about the word “magic” and said, “Love is really the magic, isn’t it?

People don’t believe in magic, but I have seen miracles in the name of love. Maybe that’s the magic we have as creatures. I have to remember that.

Today, Cynthia is doing very well. She loves popcorn, so she had her popcorn last night. Jeremiah is back to his usual self. He’s busy stashing food and bouncing around.

I have no idea how much longer Cynthia has. I assume it can’t be more than a month or two, but I am so moved by the love story between those two mice from two different worlds that I just had to share. Love is so powerful, more powerful than the dark. We have to remember that.

Sending love to you all!

The parts I like…

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

My sweet little duck passed away the night I wrote about her. I was far more relieved than I imagined I would be. She was just peaceful when I found her the next morning, and I found myself so thankful for the wonderful life she had been able to experience. Truly, I cannot imagine a better life for a duck, and she got more than seven years of it. I have so much love for the little animals on this little farm, and I have come to understand that they know this. And, my gosh, that helps with the hard parts.

Last night, it was late when I was putting up the ducks. I called for them and held out the white bowl of peas, and four of them came right away–our drake and three of the old girls. I couldn’t see Anna Maria right away, but I heard her. Because she is blind, I have go searching for her many nights, but I could hear she was close. I kept calling for her.

“Watch out for the rocks!” I called, as she bumped right into the rocks that line the fire pit. But she bounced off, as she does, and kept coming.

“You got this, Anna Maria!” I called, as she came running.

“But wait, there’s a pumpkin vine!” I called as she approached a long pumpkin vine that has spilled out over the fence and into the yard. Sure enough, it caught her, but she shook her webbed feet and escaped the vine’s grasp and was on her way.

I held the peas until she made it to me, and everyone dug into. Even with just five ducks now (down from our seven), they can devour a large bowl of peas in seconds.

Even though Anna Maria will hate me until the very end, I adore that duck. She is so resilient and strong. Ron said she will probably hobble her little blind duck self all the way until she’s the last duck standing. I actually hope not. Can you imagine me trying to care for a duck who hates me all by myself?

But seeing her in action is joyful. She is absolutely a reminder to me that there are good things in life, even when times are tough and you are down. That duck is an inspiration for sure.

And there are other amazing parts of this life. Seven or eight years ago, Ron and I planted a Transparent apple tree. It’s not one known for growing well in Maine, but Ron and I both have a long history with this unusual apple. When we met, it was one of the ways I knew we were meant to be together. His favorite kind of apple was the Transparent–as was mine. And I had only ever had a Transparent apple twice because they are so rare. I actually spent years calling around to apple orchards every fall to see if they had Transparent apples. Ron’s grandparents had a large Transparent apple tree in their yard when he was growing up. He has so many good memories of the tart apple. They are great for cooking.

Ron and I have waited patiently and then without hope that our apple tree was ever going to make a single apple, but this year, it produced! I am so excited to get these apples.

And Ron has fallen in love with the turkeys, and it’s the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I thought they would be mama’s babies forever, but they are giant, giant daddy’s babies. I am no longer strong enough to carry them to bed at night. They refuse to go to their house and roost on our back porch and watch through the glass door while I cook dinner. So every night, Ron carries these giant birds to their roosts inside their house.

Last night, I watched, as our favorite girl, a white turkey who really needs a name, walked right onto Ron’s hand and balanced herself as he held her on his arm. It was beautiful. The trust she has for him is magical.

And I have one more lovely story. The other night, we had just finished putting up our first round of green beans, and it was time to feed the mice. Jeremiah, our rescued deer mouse, is a foodie and is very picky but loves garden fare. We had some tips of the green beans left, and the beans have been really, really good this year. I wondered if he might like a few green bean tips for his dinner.

I collected the dinner options for Jeremiah and his friend, Cynthia, who does not like garden food so much but loves popcorn. So I had blueberries, walnuts, popcorn, and two green bean tips of decent size. I will add something that I am sure will be no surprise to you–both Jeremiah and Cynthia are chunky mice.

Anyway, I gave Cynthia a piece of popcorn and then held out a green bean tip in front of Jeremiah. He leaned in and took a nibble but pulled back. I held it there in front of his mouth just for a little longer in case he changed his mind but decided to give up. I was just about to pull away with the bean when his little paw reached up to my finger as if to say “wait a minute. I’m still deciding.”

I held the bean there a little longer while he held his paw on my finger and considered the bean.

He ended up taking it!

Ratatouille

~ Crystal Sands ~ 2 Comments

This is not a post about the dish, Ratatouille, and it’s only sort of related to the Disney film, Ratatouille, but there is a connection. I think it will make you smile, and I feel like we could all use a smile.

I was so sick today that I just barely got by today. Apparently, I really can’t people anymore, but I also got some really bad news about my brother yesterday. I thought we were going to lose him. He’s a survivor though, and he is a little better today and awaits surgery. I am thankful, And, thankfully, I have so many good things in my life that I am feeling better this evening. One of those good things in my life may be a bit of a surprise–it’s a mouse.

In May, I wrote about the little deer mouse my teen son rescued after a bad rain storm. The mouse was tiny and didn’t have his eyes open yet. I told my son not to rescue it, but when I went to bed that night, I heard my son in the kitchen banging around. When I went downstairs to see what he was doing, I found him making a “mouse formula” recipe he had found on the internet. And, there, in a shoe box, was a little mouse–barely alive.

My son set his alarm and fed that baby mouse every two hours. When I woke up the next morning, I went to check on things, couldn’t believe that mouse was still alive, and told my son to rest, that I would take over for a shift so my son could sleep. I fell in love with that little mouse immediately. My son named him Jeremiah. Jeremiah and I have been very good friends since May.

At first, I got creeped out every time Jeremiah ran up my arm. His little feet are like velcro, and he moves oh-so quickly. Now, I am used to him, though I still panic a bit if he tries to get into my sleeve. Thankfully, he doesn’t do that very often. He knows me well, and I know him well. We seem to have an agreement about what I am comfortable with and what he’s comfortable with.

Over the summer, we realized that Jeremiah was just too lonely, even though we carried him in a travel crate every time we took a long trip, and we got him a friend from Petco. We now have Cynthia, who is a fancy mouse, meant to be food, I suppose, but living her best life with Jeremiah, who adores her.

This is where the movie Ratatouille comes in. I really knew very little about mice,, but between my research and my son’s research, we gradually figured out how to be good mouse caretakers. However, I think I have learned the most by observing Jeremiah. The first time I saw that little mouse fall asleep with a piece of homemade wheat bread in one hand and a strawberry from our garden in another, I knew Jeremiah was a foodie–and my mind immediately went to Ratatouille. I remember that rat in the movie always wanted good food.

So one of my missions every evening is to deliver some delicous food to Jeremiah and Cynthia. Jeremiah is a fruit man. He loves all the berries. Like me, he has a hard time with store bought berries unless they are just a really good batch. He grew up on the garden, so he’s pretty picky. Right now, he’s very happy with pomegranate though. Cynthia is more of a carbs girl. She loves homemade bread more than I can say. She will take a piece of bread right out of Jeremiah’s little hands.

I have learned they don’t really like carrots. And cheese. They don’t like cheese. So much for what I learned on Tom & Jerry growing up. Apples are “mid,” as my son says, but sunflower seeds are a favorite. Tonight, I had fresh bread Ron had made and some leftover pomegranate seeds.

It had been such a rough day that I just pulled up a stool and sat and watched those mice for a long time. They are so sweet and so loving to each other. Of course, I don’t want our home overrun with mice, and I am always thankful for the owls and our kitties (we have to be super careful, by the way with the kitties). Still, I am also thankful to get to know these tiny creatures, especially Jeremiah. He’s very expressive and so full of personality. I had no idea!