Mice is Nice

Dec. 2, 1996

Dear Peter,

Dad heard scratching noises in the garage this morning and went in search of them with his flashlight. Two white footed field mice (just like Moon Mouse) were trapped in the bottom of a clean aluminum garbage can. They must have been cold in that metal can. They had crawled into a plastic detergent scoop and were huddled together. They are a tawny brown color with snow white chests and tummies and white feet, large ears and bulging black eyes shining up at us. I thought Dad would let them go in the woods before going to work, but he didn’t.

When Ben came by to shave before work, I showed him the mice--also Paula Burr next door and her little boy by lifting up the plastic scoop and walking out onto the driveway. They were frightened at first and hid their eyes, curling up in two quivering brown balls. Then they became lively and looked as though they would jump out onto the driveway. I was afraid a crow would scoop them up, so I tried to keep them in the cup as I bent down toward the ground. One jumped out into a pile of leaves, but the other started up my arm. I could feel him on the back of my hand all soft and warm. I told him not to run up my arm, but he did anyway--and then onto my back and up my neck and into my hair. When I put my head down to the ground, he finally jumped off into the leaves. I think they knew we didn’t mean to hurt them. Little Patrick (He’s four) got a big bang out of the whole thing. I was still in my nightgown, shivering in my bare feet.