The mouse was delighted. It did not worry about the future or agonize over the past. It was happy because like all house mice, it needed a house and it had found one. Not just any house, it had found the perfect house. There were young kids in the house, and that meant that there would be dropped food Its whiskers quivered with anticipation as it imagined the cookie crumbs, the cheddar, the pieces of bread, the dropped cake. It was almost too much for it to bear.
It was so overwhelmed by its good fortune that it did not stop to think how it was that there was already tunnels dug through the wall, after all, why question such luck?
The mouse grew lazy and fat on the unknowing charity of the humans. Even after they discovered his presents and laid out traps for him, he merely chuckled to himself. Did they really think that he would fall for cheese laid out on a metal death machine? That he would not smell the poisoned bait?
And he would have likely gone on living out his days in such plenty had it not been for the kitten. He smelled it the moment that they brought it into the house. Into his house! How dare they bring this mortal enemy into his paradise? That night he snuck upstairs to look at the beast. She was only a few weeks old, just twice his size. But he was not a fool, she would grow into a killer. He spent the night pacing in his little den, he had to leave, that much was certain. No mouse without a death wish would chose to tempt fate in that way. He almost left that very night, but it was warm and safe inside the house, and so bitterly cold outside. After all, the kitten could barely walk; there was no need to flee immediately. Yes, he thought, there was no rush, he could wait until summer, then find another house.
The kitten grew fast. Her once wobbly legs became springs from which she could leap twice her height. She was full of youthful joy; she chased bugs and pounced on passing feet. It was easy enough for the mouse to avoid her. Ha! , she thought she was stealthy, but he could hear her coming from miles away.
While a wiser cat would have recognized the unmistakable scent of mouse, the kitten grew up with the smell, and gave it no more thought than the smell of the television or the sofa.
But of course, sooner or later the inevitable was bound to happen. They had their first run in during the first hours of the new spring sun.
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