This week we remember Mouse. His person-mom, Karen Rempel Arthur, writes,
One morning about 20 years ago, I was sitting on my front verandah
absorbing some spring sunshine. To my surprise a cat suddenly popped
out of the shrubery and landed close to me. He gave me a friendly meow and
"Hullo there," I said. "Who are you?"
He didn't reply.
"Where'd you come from?" I asked.
He still didn't reply.
I knew all the felines in my neighbourhood and this gray cat with
four white feet and mint green eyes was a stranger. For the next several days, every time
I came outside, he would
greet me at the door and finally his persistence convinced me that just maybe
this was a homeless animal.
Softy that I am, I invited him in, fed him and laid full claim to
him as a housemate when I gave him a name. I'd always thought it would be
funny to name a cat "Mouse" and here was the perfect candidate. The coloring
was right and he took to the name.
Mouse or "Mousie" was the perfect house pet, was chatty and very
friendly. He loved to play and race around the house and yard.
He was the little angel who daily visited my ailing neighbour,
Betty, and I discovered that he also visited a neighbour's cat several houses
away. Dickens was an indoor cat but they visited and carried on a
conversation through the basement window.
Mouse was only with me for three or four years before he became ill
and died while in the care of our veterinarian but it's his very
friendliness that has always remained with me.