MILLIE

Is she harmful? Will she try to hurt me? Millie was seeing her through a window, as she had done many times. What if she comes outside? Should I run? Hide? The garden offered a lot of possibilities, with the cedar bushes being the best place to hide under, or she could make a dash for the crack in the fence and squeeze through there. However, this could lead to more danger, as it was near a neighbour’s shed and several of her relatives had perished within it. She had heard that peanut butter was offered as an enticement for them to enter therein. Once inside the shed, they did not return to the fields, nor were they seen in any of the gardens again.
Wilber had told her to never sample peanut butter, no matter how attractively it is laid out, and not to be taken in by the fresh smell of nuts and oil even when very hungry. She hadn’t seen him in a few days and wondered where he was. Likely he had found a new food supply and would return when it was depleted. She hoped it would be soon, as it was time to make a nest. The young would be arriving any day now and she didn’t want to be the sole provider, even though it was a fairly constant food supply here in the garden. The birds kicked out unwanted seeds from the overhead bird feeder, including some very tasty sunflower seeds. One never knew how long a supply would last though and then it was back to scavenging. Looking for food was always a risky business.
Nancy watched her through the kitchen window. She was smartly dressed in a brown fur coat. The hints of pink from her ears and tail emphasized the rich sheen of her coat. She had bright brown eyes that were constantly on the alert and tiny feet that skittered throughout the garden area. Her movements were stealthy. Nancy imagined that she had a nest somewhere with babes to feed, as she saw her scavenge under the winter bird feeder.  “Poor wee soul,” Nancy thought. “So many predators, with mankind being the most to fear.”
“Why do people idolize Mickey and Minnie Mouse even to dressing them in cute clothes?” she wondered.
He with his red shorts, white gloves and shoes, and she with a polka dot dress, matching hair bow and high heeled pumps.
Then there are the Christmas cards depicting cute little mice, usually grey ones, wearing bright red waistcoats and topped off with red Santa type hats. Yet the same card sender would set a trap on Christmas Eve for a living, natural mouse.
Peace on earth is depicted by snapping a living creature’s neck?
Similarly, why is a chipmunk considered cute, but not a mouse? It has the same pointed face, bright brown eyes and both are furred. What sets the chipmunk apart from being issued baited traps and poisoned seeds? Is it the stripes? Or that it does not initiate home invasions? Maybe its own TV show has endeared it to many with the star “Alvin” having a singing role to play? But mice are much maligned.
Nancy snapped out of her reverie. John, her husband, suggested they go outside and have coffee on the patio. She agreed but hoped Millie would not appear. Her husband would not be pleased with her harbouring a mouse, and even less so if he knew she was foolish enough to give it a name. However, the mouse saw them come out and quickly scurried under the cedars. It was a pleasant spring morning and they savoured their coffee outdoors. Suddenly, a large shadow loomed between the trees. It was their neighbour, Bill, who lived in the complex behind them.
“Hi neighbours!” he said. “How ya doin’?”
“Good morning,” they responded in unison.
“Say, he said, have you been having any problems or seen any mice these last few months?”
“No,” replied Nancy quickly, hoping at the same time that she wasn’t flushing with the lie.
“Is there a problem?” queried John.
“Well,” Bill responded,  “I’ve caught twelve in all, in my garden shed. I just use peanut butter and traps. It works every time.”
John said, “It’s likely these damned bird feeders. All of us should take them down now that winter is over.”
“Right on,” Bill responded.  “It is time. I’ll detach and empty mine today.”
John replied, “So will we right after I finish my coffee.”
Nancy reluctantly acknowledged this solution. She knew it would only be a short time before Millie’s relatives or brood appeared on the scene. She felt a great pity for these small creatures just trying to survive in a hostile world. Silently, she apologized to Millie.
Gathering up the coffee cups, she left her husband to dismantle the bird feeder.
Millie watched them sitting outside. All seemed quiet and peaceful until the other man appeared in their garden. He cast a large shadow and she trembled in the shade of it, although well hidden under the cedar bush. He was loud spoken and bragging to them about how many mice he had killed in his shed. Was her Wilber among them, she wondered? Is that why he never came home? No, it couldn’t be that. He knew about peanut butter. Wasn’t he the one who had warned her?
The woman looked sad and appeared disgusted with the big man’s bravado tale of misery and killings in his shed. Millie was afraid now. Removing the seed supply would force her to seek food in another area. She would have to make her way to the nearby vacant field. The tall grass there offered some protection. Most areas were unsafe for herself and her kind. Every day was a survival challenge. Soon there would be more mouths to feed. She had best scurry over to the field and attempt to select a nest area.
Millie saw the woman watching from the window. She was no longer afraid of her, just of the men, who were stomping around removing wood posts and seed. There was no choice but to move on. Heading over to the field, she spotted a few of her kin. They formed a small group and surged forward. They all hoped for a brave, new tomorrow.
Crouched and hidden by the tall grasses, a large cat waited patiently.