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When I was a lad, the children’s warden read stories to me about the country mouse and the city mouse and lots of other little mice that were good little mice. Saturday morning cartoons showed how big bad cats harassed the good little mice.
In the world of children’s books and entertainment, the mouse was a revered character. Mighty Mouse was a hero. Stuart Little was a mouse loved by the world. Topo Gigo was a mouse loved by only Ed Sullivan. Jerry, of Tom and Jerry, was a big movie and TV star that danced with Gene Kelly. Danger Mouse saved the world after Mighty Mouse aged out. Speedy Gonzales pulled in millions of US dollars kicking around a Texan cat. Pinky upheld ratings for the Brain and millions of kids dress like Mickey and Minnie Mouse every Halloween.
We have always bombarded children with the cute mouse image but then somewhere, sometime and somehow in our own world someone unleashes real world reality upon our young, pure hearts and mind.
I guess that moment comes when your dad or mom or nannie or poopoo or children’s warden discovered those little seed like pellets in their cereal. As a child I just thought they were raisin stems.
I remember my older brothers saying, “They’re stems…eat em.”
Perplexed, I began to realize that adults had once again created a false world for those of us from age 0 to 5. Adults love to lie to children.
“I bought new traps,” my mom said. “Don’t touch them. They’ll take off your finger.”
My Uncle Cleat tried for years to build a better trap. He failed every time. Then one day he was building a design for an Australian Hopping Rat and while exhausted from baiting the thing with a deer carcass, accidentally sat on the thing and prematurely cut of his arm.
Then came the autumn of 2009.
The Hogan House seemed like it would be a nice winter shelter to a group of mice that we named Attila and the Hun-mice. They attacked without warning and ravished and pillaged and left droppings…lots of droppings. This was the signature of their names upon a death warrant written in cheese.
Over the years I have become adept at terminating mice. The armor on my traps is titanium with a copper, zinc and silver alloy. The wood is from a now extinct parrot tree from the Easter Islands. There are no prisoners or survivors or escapes…ever.
Vice President Dick Cheney may have been the caller who wanted to know if I could build such a human size device. I told him that the parrot trees are extinct. He said, “Well, to you people they are.”
Three traps, three mice, three days. Aren’t any stems in the cereal at the Hogan House any more? The scenario will play out every fall or until the mice bend the twigs outside the house, letting their compatriots know, this is an invincible fortress to hold.
In the words of the famous mice, Pinky and the Brain, Pinky said, “Brain, what do you want to do tonight?”
Brain replied, “The same thing we do every night. Try to take over the world.”
Be prepared to battle the mouse.
(Ken Stone is the publisher for the Grant County News. He can be reached at 824-3343 or by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.)