Compassion can surprise even you.
From the time I somersaulted from my mother’s womb, I learned, never to squeal on anyone, including a mouse that preceded me into Duane Reade like a runaway caboose.
I watched him dive under the umbrella display, then peek up at me as if to say, come on, please don’t tell. It’s just so freakin cold out there, even for me.
And it was, and he wasn’t wearing a hoodie like yours truly who was freezing waiting for the store to open.
I can’t say I’m a rodent fan, but my heart, though quickened by his presence, opened anyway. He was certainly tiny, but chubby, so at least I knew he was eating. Yes, his diet did occur to me, my Italian having no edit for any member of the disenfranchised.
It did make me wonder if he had family in residence thinking maybe I’d forego buying Raisin Bran that was this week’s special.
No offense Mighty, but I think I may just trip on down to Gristides hoping I don’t bump into any of your relatives.
It’s hard not being a rat, and harder, I imagine, being one.
SB
Susannah, that is so funny. He was just waiting for someone to open the door! I have to admit that I think mice are cute, but I don’t want them making themselves at home in my home!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That makes two of us. He was like a cartoon mouse the way he peeked out at me.
LikeLike
They are adorable. Sometimes I’ll find them in sleeping near the birdseed container just waiting for a spill.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You too? We’re like Aesop in the critter department.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We all find our niche or perish.
I recall sitting in a Chelsea restaurant, and seeing Micky poke his nose from behind the wine rack. We have church mice and swanky up-town mice too. I doubt Environmental Health would look on him so favourably.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s been said, New York has more rats than people. Considering how many people are rats, that’s quite a population.
LikeLiked by 1 person