Ok, for the people who never quite understand why I don’t take in mice to raise.

Mice are a lot of work to raise, just like any other baby animal. Their mouths are tiny and hard to hit when you are half asleep (they eat every few hours) Their butts are very small and hard to wipe. You have to carry them everywhere with you and people freak out when you are sitting in the Goodwill parking lot, feeding them with a hypodermic syringe. Strangers run away screaming something about “Shooting up” and being a “degenerate”

Once the mouse is grown and weaned, they are unbelievably cute. If you release them they will have a half life of about three days. You can’t toss something that cute out in the cold. So you make it a rodent resort to live in. It and it’s partner (please God, let them be the same sex) live in it for months eating premium seed and fruit and nuts. They build a big nest and only come out to play when you are asleep. (so much for cute).
Eventually, they will learn to unscrew the little plug in their cage and you will feed non existent mice for at least three days. Now the mice are living free in your studio. The only evidence you see of them is the empty sunflower seed hulls in your box of silk fabric and the mouse poop in your coffee cup.

One evening, the cat is staring at a shelf in your studio. You stop and ponder and finally say “fuck it” and start hauling boxes off the shelf so the cat can get in. After a half hour of moving and emptying boxes, the cat finds the mouse. You are torn between cheers and tears. You start putting boxes back.

About the time the last box is back in the, previously inaccessible corner. The cat runs by chasing the mouse. It misses the mouse and you start moving stuff all over again. It’s now midnight. You move the last box and taaa-daa, the cat retrieves the mouse. It lays motionless on the floor. The cat does not want a dead mouse.

You sigh and put all the boxes, bags of litter, extra bags of seed, and the aluminum walker (don’t ask) back. You figure if the cat is not going to eat the damn mouse you will throw it away before it starts to stink. It’s not there. The cat is staring at another shelf now.

This time you say “fuck it” a little louder and go to bed.

You lay there thinking….The mouse was probably mortally wounded (not much survives a cats bite for long) and will now die and start to smell. You know you will probably have to tear the studio apart looking for the stinky mouse. Once you find it, there will still be the second mouse living in your studio (please God let it be a male). You fall into a restless sleep and dream of mice with fangs.

You wake up in the morning and there is fresh mouse poop in your coffee cup.

No, I’m sorry. I don’t take mice……well, at least not today.