I sometimes have to understand that my house mice will die. I thought Peanut, the most personable mouse I’ve ever fed, met his untimely end after not seeing him for 2 weeks.
A new young male showed up. A little boy I named Squeak-R. He’s been Little Girl’s companion. They constantly squeak and have little arguments. Squeak-R is still in his popcorny exploratory climby stage. He’s on everything, my bike, the top of the clothes heap, my desk. and my bed. He’s too macho to take food from mum when Little Girl is looking so he is the spirited independent mouse, gathering crumbs from strange locations.
So it wasn’t unusual that I saw a tiny male staring at me from the begging spot. I automatically thought it was Squeak-R and dismissed the begging because I knew he was just playing his games that would never end in a feeding. I did have a funny feeling in my stomach and continued to baby-talk him. He flitted back and forth in excitement. Then I realized, ‘it’s PEANUT!’ At the sound of his name he did a little dance, perking up his ears and making more jerky movements.
I couldn’t help being totally in love with this little guy. He’s the only mouse that sits in my hand and lets me stroke his tail and very rarely, his side. He’s also the only mouse who knows I’m a living being and not a dispenser of food. He looks up into my eyes and you can tell he knows. I love to hear his soft licking sound and feel his warm belly on my hand. Many people think male mice smell badly but I actually don’t think he smells bad at all. He’s never peed in my hand. He does leave a musky scent that is sweet with a hint of sour baby smell. After I wash my hands I can still smell him but I like it. He actually smells quite nice and I bet as a female I smell good to him as well.
Little Girl, who had already stuffed herself, was sneaking up on him to bite. I told her ‘no’ and she kept backing off and rattling her tail. Peanut would turn his body and just raise himself on his haunches while sitting in my hand. Sometimes he’d step off my hand and sit next to my hand as if to say, ‘see this big creature behind me? Don’t try it.’
Little Girl does listen to me. She waddles away angry but without serious complaint since her belly is full of pb. It’s all just for show, her little displays. She is not effective in her territory anymore since her accident that left her leg injured as well as her back.
Peanut visited me again last night. He doesn’t take Little Girl seriously anymore. He knows she’s not fast like she used to be. He still does run away when he’s full. He scurries under my bike, under the chair and then under the kitchen cupboard. I’m glad he’s back.