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FIELD MICE CAN BE SO BOSSY


I was getting bored, having to wait for Kevin to wake from what seemed to be a very deep sleep, Judging by the loud snoring permeating from where he was laid on his back. How this wasn't uncomfortable with those large spikes I'll never know. It was about 4pm and my patience was waning. I walked slowly over to where Kevin lay and cleared my throat, loudly. No response, nothing at all. I tried again. This time my mouth almost touching his left ear. With this Kevin shot up. He was no longer a hedgehog but a perfectly circular ball of needles. This was one party trick anyone would be proud of. Then, as quickly as he had transformed into a prickly basket ball, his head emerged from within his armour. "Don't ever do that again. You frightened me to death. If I wanted an alarm call then I'd rely on the seagulls to wake me." At this point I was feeling rather guilty for waking Kevin up prematurely. Though I was hungry and still wasn't any closer to finding my way home. 

"I'm sorry Kevin, but I really need to find my way home today, preferably before it gets dark," I said with an assertive tone. "You're right," answered Kevin. "We need to eat and then we will get you home to your family."

The thought of food made me feel even more hungry than I already was. "I've been living off spiders and flies since I got lost," I told Kevin. "I think we can do better than that my friend. I know a place in the woods that provides food for me and my friends. I suppose I could share my meal with you Mog, as long as you don't make it a habit.

Kevin and I set off. I remained about 4 feet  behind my new found spikey pal. This enabled me both to keep an eye on possible encounters from enemy predators, plus I felt it polite to enable my new food lovey to take the lead.

We had been walking for about twenty minutes or so when I saw what seemed to be a lone cottage within a clearing ahead. It looked rather run down, with the once white exterior paint loose and flaking. There was somebody at home as there was dark smoke billowing from the slightly angled chimney. Kevin turned to me. "wait here Mog, whilst I check that the coast is clear and to see if I've been left any food."

"OK," I replied. I stood still as so not to make any noise that may disturb Kevin's investigations.

He soon returned. "Follow me Mog. We have rich pickings today." What would this feast ahead contain? Salmon? Tuna? Oh!!! As we approached what seemed to be chipped and dirty plate I realised that my expectations of an all you can eat buffet had been dashed. Instead, on the plate was something that resembled slop. What could this unappetizing heap of mess contain.

Kevin, however didn't hang around. He positively skipped over and tucked in immediately. His eating habits could only be described as basic. The slurping noise alone was enough to make me feel quite queasy. I approached the plate. "What is this Kevin?" "Milk and bread, tuck in, it's so tasty." Milk and bread? A combination I wasn't familiar with. I hesitated again. Then, as I sniffed at this workhouse type offering a voice from behind us squeaked, in an East London accent, "just get it eaten. Beggars can't be choosers."

I turned my head quickly, incase I needed to protect myself. There, sat on a moss-covered rock, beside the front door of the cottage, was a field mouse. "Think you're too good for milk 'n bread do ya?" "Indeed I do not," I replied. "It's  just that I'm lactose intolerant and milk may make me ill." "Well if I was you I'd eat what I can, when I can. You ain't gonna die. But you'll die from starvation. Eat woman, before I eat it for ya."

This was one bossy field mouse. I opened my mouth and proceeded to take my first mouthful. The bread needed chewing and as I did I thought to myself, "This isn't too bad. In fact its rather tasty." The fact was that I was extremely hungry and before long I was making as much noise as kevin. Before long the plate was empty and our bellies were full. "Thank you Kevin for sharing your meal with me."

"Plenty more where that came from Mog," he replied. "The lady who lives in the cottage puts a plate out for all of us that live in the area. She's a very old and kind person. Her husband died seven years ago and she was devastated. Since then she relies on the wildlife for company and makes sure that we all have food if we need it."

"So what's ya name?" questioned the mouse, twitching her nose as she circled around me. "My name is Mog-Trog." I looked over to Kevin, who was rolling his eyes. "But Mog will do." "Well my name is Fiona, Fiona Fubbertwang. "Really?" I replied. "Only Joking Mog, just Fiona. So where are you two off to now?" " I need to find my way home," I replied. "Kevin has gladly offered to help me."

Fiona looked at me with a puzzled expression. "So where is home?" asked Fiona. "That's just it. I don't know." With that, the rather likable mouse scurried over to Kevin. "Can I come too Kevin? I'll be good. I won't be any bother. Oh please let me come with you both." Kevin looked over at me and replied, "OK Fiona. The more the merrier. Just remember, I'm in charge, not you. You do as you're told else you'll be left behind. Understood?" With that Fiona started jumping up and down with excitement. "We're off on an adventure. We're off. We're off." 

So then there were three. It was getting dark and although Kevin was ready for the night ahead, I was feeling tired and for some reason I was starting to get pains in my stomach. This was going to be a long night.

 

  


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