Bye, Bye Mousie

Some pets last 20 years. Others for a few months. My Mousie just did for a week. But he gave us a helluva fun time during his existence.

I got my Mousie thru our office's Kris Kringle and the guy who gave him to me said he bought him at Blue Magic for P30.

Mousie is no ordinary pet: black, made of flexible, kinda-sticky rubber with two small white dots for eyes and a long, thin tail that can extend from here to eternity; he's got the most itchy feet I've ever seen of any of our office's pet toys.

That tail was a gift to pranksters like us. We would throw Mousie (bless him, he always had fun being thrown) to the ceiling, his tail would stick for a few seconds, then an unsuspecting officemate would pass by and Mousie would timingly release his tail and fall down to the poor fella. It would always result to screams that would make even Satan curl.

Sadly, that tail lasted only two days. One thing about being the lone mouse in an office, Mousie had no outlet whenever he felt 'the urge.' Then one day it just had to happen; he fell in love with the sprightly blinking mouse of a G4 computer that he just couldn't resist it. He humped the poor plastic mouse; humped it well and dry for hours till he accidentaly slipped his tail underneath his paramour. When he had finished, Mousie did what he normally did whenever he was on high places: he jumped! The result was devastating.



Losing his tail did not prevent Mousie to have more jolly good time. Sometimes he would hide in a purse and surprise anyone who slips her hand in it. Or he would frolick inside a styropor of leftover spaghetti and have us wipe him of the tomato sauce and cheese sticking all over him. But whenever he was tired, he would just sit on our lap, hang by the edge of a table or somebody's shoulder and watch whatever we were doing.



But all that fun had to come to an end.

One early morning I saw him on his back, dead. He saw our can of lacquer thinner, sniffed around it, liked what he smelled, and kept on sniffing. But a small rubber mouse could only intake a miniscule amount of fumes, and Mousie had a lot.



We do miss Mousie. He was a great comic, a superb stress reliever with his soft body. Now we content ourselves with a rubber baseball; but it wasn't as much fun as Mousie was. It would bounce off the wall instead of sticking to it, it wouldn't stand still on our shoulders, and most of all, it wouldn't hump any of our computer peripherals.

Bless you, Mousie and thanks for everything.