BY KATHERINE KELLY
I’m not a huge fan of mice. Usually we try and get rid of them. But I don’t kill things, anything, if I can avoid it. Our former neighbors were hoarders and when they left they also left a large amount of rodents behind. Houses on both sides became deluged with mice. Timmy is #6 that we have caught. The others were caught during good weather and released. Timmy was caught during our last heavy rain storm and I didn’t have the heart to throw him out in the weather.
After keeping him for several days waiting for the weather to dry up a bit, I fed and watched Timmy. He was so tiny. He’s just a baby! I thought, how can I throw him out? All he wants is something to eat and a warm place to sleep. It’s pretty much what we all want. And I have plenty, I feel guilty for having so much and denying this little guy some comfort. Okay, I’m a sucker. They all know it, too. All they have to do is look cute.
So, now Timmy lives in a little wire mesh cage my husband built for him. He has a nice plastic jar as a cave to make his bed with a big fluffy pile of dryer lint. He has a toilet paper roll and his water dish is a plastic bottle cap until I can get him a proper water bottle. Wild mice live twice as long as domesticated mice and are generally healthier, so I expect our little critter will live long enough to outgrow his cage and need a bigger one.
Timmy and I have an agreement. I will provide food and a clean home with all the dryer lint he wants to make his warm bed. I will respect his wildness and not hold him or play with him. He seems to prefer this arrangement and is making it easy for me to uphold my end of the bargain by staying hid most of the time. His part of the deal is to stay in the cage. As cute as he is, I prefer not to have him running amok in my house or garage. He gets to live, my conscience is assuaged. A sweet deal all the way around.