Author Topic: A country mouse goes to the city  (Read 833 times)

A country mouse goes to the city
« on: August 28, 2015, 01:32:34 pm »
On my commute I got the train to Marylebone, as usual, but rather than cycling - as a bunged up ear is mucking up my balance - I walked to Baker St tube with one of my fellow commuters.

Imagine my surprise (which according to my fellow commuter was substantial) when I opened my courier bag to get my wallet when a little itty-bitty mouse popped his head out of my bag.   :o

I'd left my bag in the kitchen last night, and presumably the cat who is restricted to the kitchen/ utility area had caught the mouse.  Puck the cat (born on midsummer's day)  eats most things he catches except for meeces which are clearly toys for the playing with thereof. Presumably said mouse escaped and took refuge in my bag.

Quite how I didn't squash it when I put my laptop in my bag I'll never know.

So I managed to  coax the  mouse into a pocket in my bag with a zip, zipped it in there, and he had a nice(?) tube journey from Baker St to London Bridge on the Jubilee Line. After a brief walk, I realised mousey from the zipped pocket and off he scampered into the gardens of a block of flats near to where I work.

I used to read 'Ms Moultonaught the junior' the story of the country mouse who went to the city. This evening when I get home,  I can tell her that this morning, I lived it!!


not so much a gravel grinder.... more of a gravel groveller


  • Андрій
  • Ερασιτεχνικός μισάνθρωπος
Re: A country mouse goes to the city
« Reply #1 on: August 28, 2015, 05:14:08 pm »
As if we don't have enough of the wee beasties here already.  ::-)

But still a cute story. :)
;D  Andrij.  I pronounce you Complete and Utter GIT   :thumbsup:


  • Eating all the pies and drinking all the tea.
Re: A country mouse goes to the city
« Reply #2 on: September 03, 2015, 05:08:46 pm »
Wonderful! Well, perhaps not for the mouse, and perhaps not for the insides of your bag either.

Once many years ago I left my bike, with panniers, in the shed – which is an old cowshed – at the in-laws' place in the country. The next day when I got it out, I remembered I'd left a bar of chocolate in that pannier. I fished it out and found teeth marks on it. I certainly hadn't left it like that, so my immediate thought was that a certain sweet-toothed little boy had found it. He denied it and looking again I noticed the packet had not been opened but gnawed right through at one end. Looking further, I found an incredibly neat hemispherical nest of woven grass in the bottom of the pannier! The architect was not in residence – I hope he (or she) found it in its new location.
Days become simply the spaces between dreams, spaces between the shifting floors of time...