... a little mouse
When I was about five or six years old, playing on the kitchen floor with my trucks and
stuff, a little mouse came out of the closet. I was startled and called to my mother to see. My
mother, all of five foot two, ran to the cellar stairs to get her broom. As she chased the mouse
around with her broom handle, Timmy, our cat, appeared. When my mother had finally stunned the mouse, she hollered at
me to open the side door to the porch. I was very surprised as mother grabbed the mouse by the tail and Timmy by the scruff of his neck, she hurled both onto the back porch. I still laugh at that memory of seventy-five years ago.
>September 2, 2011