The Mouse Retorts

I heard that Big Dave was talking about me. Me, the mouse. He actually had the gall to call me a pet? I’ve felt as wanted here as a cockroach in a French restaurant. It was their number two son who bought me the first year he was at Michigan State. He wanted companionship. Yeah, right. Like I’m going to roll over, speak and snuggle on his lap. Once he found out I eat food that costs dough, I was dropped like a dirty sock.

So the other son had me for a while at Central Michigan University. He had an apartment with another pet, a lizard. Great big monster. Once they put me and the lizard in the same cage to see what would happen. Remember the scene in Jurassic Park where the little girl turns around to see a Tyrannosaurus Rex towering over her? That’s what it felt like to me. Yeah, this is a pet-loving family all right.

Finally, the other son tired of me and I came here. Notice that I didn’t call here home. That’s because I’m bustin’ out of the joint and finding my own place. I did bust out once in the middle of the night. Laid low underneath a sofa while I plotted my break from the big house. But they nabbed me. Big Dave did anyway. His wife stayed upstairs. After that, she put lots of twist ties on my cage door. And she complains that I’m living way past my life expectancy.

Hea, I’m no hamster. I’m going to be around a while. Check out the picture. I’m outliving the cage! Gotta love it. Duct tape and plastic fasteners aren’t going to hold me forever. In the meantime, I’m learning the ropes. I see the dog beg for treats. He sits, he lies, he flops on command. Now me, I just sit and stare at the missus with my beady, black eyes. Pretty soon I hear, "That mouse is looking at me. Give him something." That’s how I get my pay-off, a piece cheese or a peanut butter cracker.

So life is okay for now. But once I decide I’m blowing this popsickle joint, watch out. You might find me curled up in your sock drawer. Or just skittering across the hallway floor in the middle of the night. Mickey mouse I’m not.