Tag: mouse

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!

In My Hands

~ Crystal Sands ~ Leave a comment

On Monday, I was picking strawberries in my apron and was struck by how beautiful the freshly-picked berries looked against my apron. Of course, I had to take a picture. Later, I was kneading dough for dinner and thought it was so beautiful too, so I took a picture. I ended up deciding it would be cool to take pictures of the amazing things in my hands on an average day here on our little farmstead. I hope these make you smile!

These were the very first strawberries of the season, and they symbolize so much hope and joy for me. They are the most beautiful to me!

I was making tortillas for dinner and thought about how beautiful dough is. I have large hands, which used to bother me when I was young, but now that I work on our farmstead–and am learning to play cello–I am thankful for large hands.

The first radishes! There have been no worms this year, which is kind of amazing! The snails have eaten the green beans and carrots, but the radishes have been spared the worms!

The spinach and lettuces have been excellent this year. I thinned them early and have been working hard to give them space all spring. It has worked. Look at this lettuce! And that’s Saint-Saens in the background really wanting some. She got some, of course!

Ruby is broody, as she does. Because we cannot have any baby chicks this year, I keep taking the eggs from her, and she keeps pecking me as much as she can over it. One day, I saw she was on nine eggs. On this day, there were just three.

And this one is a very long story. A couple of weeks ago, my teenage son rescued a baby mouse that had blown into our driveway after a storm. It was nearly dead, and I thought it was definitely going to die. However, my son stayed up with that mouse, who still had its little eyes closed, and fed it every two hours the first night. Somehow, that little mouse made it, and now we have a mouse friend. I know the risks of rescuing a wild animal, and I am generally opposed to this kind of thing. It’s a long story that I hope to tell soon that this little mouse, named Jeremiah Benjamin von Kangle Wangle (because he kangles and wangles and also seems to be able to teleport), is with us. He’s very, very sweet.