They call me Mother Teresa

So, I am at it again. Saving lives where ever I turn. It is true. And, my name really is Teresa. (This is what my grandkids will call me by-the-way....Mother Teresa)


In the early hours of the morning I sensed danger lurking in the air. I quickly honed into my keen tracking abilities and was caught by a sight outside.


A cat. Yes. One of nature’s deadliest fiends. It was crouched in the tall grass of my neighbor's house. It was peering down with a half-smirk on his face. Then all of a sudden I zoned into the sight of something dark leaping doing in and out of the grass, like a ballerina on speed doing pirouettes.

The action.
My mother Teresa instincts kicked into hyper drive and I immediately grabbed a jar and a lid. "Here I come to save the day!" (That is a little foreshadowing...;))


A mouse.
So cute and tiny. If it wasn't for the fact that we live in Ohio and not Australia, I could have sworn it was a kangaroo mouse as it stood on his hind legs with hands folded. It looked up at me with a glazed look in his little bug eyes as if to say, "Save me, Mother Teresa, save me!"

How could I turn away such a humble plea? So, I put my jar down in front of the scary and deadly cat as he glared at me with an evil look in his eye that clearly stated "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY PLAYTHING, YOU FREAKING GIANT? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? MOTHER TERESA?"


I ushered the mouse in the jar with my lid. "Here mousy, mousy..." And, he quickly obliged to take my cue and hopped right into the jar.


SAVED!


Now.... What do I do with a mouse? I didn't want him at my house! Although my kids certainly did. I kept him in a jar until my kids eagerly made him a little habitat. ...Our own little habitat for humanity - err... mousy.

He lived in there happy as could be with a toilet paper tube to play in, a raisin bran house, and a load of cheese and bread to eat. And, he had a new name. Bugsy. Fittingly named by Courage for his huge bug eyes. What more could he want? Freedom?

So, we kept him for the weekend.

He escaped once. Luckily we caught him before he took off to the nooks and crannies of our home; never to be seen again.

By, Sunday evening we were ready to cut the ties and set him free. We headed out to the metro park because it was far enough away from my home and presented the best living amenities for a little mouse.

I could tell that his little heart broke at the thought of leaving his savior. But, alas he pirouetted away to the underbrush.

Tear. I watched him scurry away. Hope and Justice each cried, "I wanted to keep Bugsy!"

It was over. We shall meet again in our dreams little mousy. And, as we separately peer into the moonlight we shall think once again of our everlasting bond.