Moonrat recently talked about a mouse in her house that she's having problems with, and that got me to thinking about my own experiences with mice.
I'm fairly familiar with rodents, and have had more than a few pet rodents. I've had mice, rats (love them!!!), guinea pigs, and gerbils. The mice, though, were interesting.
We had two, named Bag and Run, after characters in Brian Jacques' "Redwall" book series. They were small, and they were fast. For a while I seemed to be the only member of the family who could actually catch them, which meant that I was always involved when it came time to clean their cage. My job was to catch them, put them into another smaller cage so that we could clean theirs, and then get them back into their own cage once it was nicely cleaned up.
There is one time that stands out in my memory. I was taking them out of their own cage, and one almost escaped. Naturally I grabbed at him, and unfortunately it was his tail I grabbed. His response? He bit me.
I was incensed.
My tirade was something like this: "You ungrateful twerp! Here I am, saving you from escaping into a house that has two cats and a dog in it, and what do you do? You bite me! How dare you!" I might not have been so furious if the bite hadn't drawn blood.
The bite wasn't serious, and of course I forgave the mouse (hey, I did grab his tail), but even though I must have been a preteen at the time I'll never forget him.
No wonder I like rats more than mice.