Stuart Little say hello to St. Francis

My best girlfriend is an animal lover and has a heart of pure gold. She rescued two greyhounds once their racing days were over. She has owned any number of hamsters, gerbils, guinea pigs, and rabbits. I don’t think she’s owned any reptiles, though I am sure with her two boys that will happen eventually. Oh yes, she also has fish – well the boys have fish – but you KNOW who takes care of them, now don’t you! She’s always getting herself into all sorts of situations and listening to her relate them, well…it is beyond funny!! She told me this story last week about her mother and a baby mouse that got named Stuart Little. For the protection of the guilty, I shall change names. Friend shall now be dubbed BGF (Best Girl Friend) and her Mom shall be just that – Mom! Creative, aren’t I?

BGF’s Mom was at the local Christian bookstore buying some goodies. As Mom walked across the parking lot to get into her car she noticed a little baby mouse no more than an inch long, lying in the middle of the macadam (slowly roasting to death since it was so freakin’ hot last week)! Mom stopped. Bent over. Saw a small white mouse and wondered, “Where did he came from? Does he belong to someone?,” she pondered.

As she looked up to cast an eye around the parking lot to see if anyone was looking for a lost pet, she spied a car nearby that was just filled to the roof with trash. “Ah ha!” she thought, “the mouse must have fallen out of that car with all the trash. No doubt some mother mouse somehow found her way into the car and had a nest of babies!” (Now readers, that’s just downright disgusting, but it’s the truth. BGF told me so!) So what didMother do? She got a napkin (quick thinker, she is) and picked up the baby mouse, put it in the car and drove to her daughter’s house!! Why, you ask? Because Mom had to go to a party that evening and had no time to take care of said baby mouse. But she’s a sharp one, that Mom. She called BGF first to alert her to the soon-to-be-delivered mouse, so that BGF would have time to jump on the web and search out how to feed said baby mouse! Huh? Yes, you read correctly. FEED the mouse, which is no more than one inch in length! Honey, I can assure you, the reason God had Mom find that mouse is ‘cause Philippa here has a heart of stone and would have taken said mouse and put it under a bush for some bunny’s lunch!! Yup ya got that right! Anyway, I digress…

By the time Mom got to BGF’s house, BGF had already researched and discovered that kitten formula is best served to baby mouse via pipette, who by now has been named Stuart Little. In addition to this fabulous discovery, BGF also discovered that baby mice need assistance going potty. Yes, you read that correctly too! Assistance. Pray tell and HOW does that happen???? Well one must use a cotton swab on said baby mouse’s bottom, gently rubbing the (ahem, cough) back end to stimulate the mouse so he poo’s and pee’s. Now I ask you, dear reader, do you not think this is above and beyond the call of duty for any SANE person to do for a wild mouse? I mean, c’mon!!!! But oh no, dear reader, it gets worse.

Baby mouse arrived at BGF’s house, was dropped unceremoniously in the kitchen, and Mom headed out to her event. BGF got Stuart settled into the small plastic cage that once held the 5 (yes that’s correct) hermit crabs the boys brought home from the beach a week ago, who are now too big for it. (Lord have mercy!)

The evening came and BGF got everyone ready for bed. Her hubster came home from a long week of traveling, saw Stuart, was filled in on the details, and was ready for some serious sleeping in his nice new soft bed. But alas, that was not to be. Ya know why? Oh c’mon dear reader, haven’t you ever nursed an infant before? Yes, you guessed it. Dear Stuart Little had to be nursed EVERY TWO HOURS AROUND THE CLOCK. So what did dear BGF do? She set her alarm every two hours to feed Stuart. Dear hubster said, “Nope, not me. I’m on the couch were I will get a peaceful night’s sleep!!!” (He was the smart one in this story.) And… after each feeding, little Stuart was made to go potty. (Oh for heaven’s sake!)

The boys, as little boys will be, thought this new addition to the family was permanent. But BGF was brilliant at this point. She explained to dear boys that a wild mouse can’t be kept in the house since he was meant to be living outside. So they called the local wildlife society after everyone had breakfast and went potty (Stuart too) and took Stuart Little to them for further nurturing.

Umm…dear BGF, may I humbly suggest that next time this happens, you explain to dear Mom that “a wild mouse can’t be kept in the house since he was meant to be living outside” and to leave the wild mouse under a bush. If a bunny has him for lunch, well you know even animals need their protein and roughage. After all, that’s the order of nature.

Oh and BGF, I suggest we change your name to Francis, and you take St. Francis of Assisi for your patron saint!!!

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2 thoughts on “Stuart Little say hello to St. Francis

  1. I’m sorry, these people are *way* too Franciscan. If it had been me, I would have steered *wayyyy* around Stuart and left him to his fate. Or, if I had been feeling especially Franciscan (not likely!), I might have returned him to his theoretical place of birth — the car with the trash in it.

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