So, here we are. I have to say that Fraser hasn’t exactly been welcoming. When I came into his apartment, I was pretty unobtrusive really, the odd nibble here and a little scurry here and there. Ok, maybe I’m not the cutest little mouse around, having been around for a while, and been in the wars a little, and maybe I spilled a bit of rice (so hasn’t he heard of jars?) and maybe I chewed on the odd cable — what did I know! — but Fraser’s reaction was pretty severe.
He decided to declare war on me, threatening traps, poison and various forms of violence. So, I thought: OK! Bring it on buddy. I’m ready for you. Up until then, in my opinion, I had been pretty docile — “sleekit”, “cowerin’ ”, “timorous” as Fraser’s oft-quoted poet, Robert Burns, would have it.
So, he laid all these traps, and his little ‘jelly jar’ lids of poison. Do I look stupid? Like I said, I have been around for a while now…..and just because I am getting on a bit, it hasn’t slowed me down at all. So, when he threw things across the room at me, I had plenty of time to dodge all those missiles.
And if he wanted war, he could have it! I have a few tricks of my own to offer. So I made a point of chewing a few more things, making sure a few things more were spilled from bags and, I am ashamed to say (although let’s face it, all is fair in love and war), I made a point of defecating everywhere. As for the missiles, my response was to add insult to injury by re-appearing immediately afterwards just to emphasise that he had missed.
I have almost won this war. Fraser is beginning to look pretty defeated, somewhat ‘timorous’ — almost cute, really. I am just about ready to introduce him to my partner and our twelve children, and the relatives who have also just moved in.
Fraser
September 2024