Life’s lessons can, and almost always do, appear in the most unlikely of places. The other night a mouse made himself the unwelcome guest in our house, and unfortunately for him, our cat, a large beautiful rescue cat (he rescued us), found him first.
As our cat clamped his mouth around the small creature’s tail and strode about the house with his prize, I tried to rescue it from its misery. Our cat had other intentions for the mouse. He was to be used as a toy, to be battered and hit around at our cat’s mercy.
As the mouse scurried around, our cat would hit the poor creature again and again. The mouse lay lifeless under the dining table as our cat nonchalantly licked his paw as if bored with the mouse’s lack of fight. As I approached to take the dead mouse away, the little guy got up from his apparent death slumber and ran out of the dining room, into the entry hall and straight into the coat/shoe closet. Where he lay was a drop of blood, insignificant to a human, but to a mouse …
Prince, surprised by the mouse’s sudden resurrection, followed too slowly to make any chase of significance. I reached in with a gloved hand and caught the little guy, only to have his blood soaked body squirm out of my grip and run into the kitchen and take refuge somewhere under the fridge.
After many hours he would peak out and run back in. I was sure that he would die under there given the amount of blood I witnessed in relation to size of him.
Eventually he came out, The cat caught him, I took the mouse from the death clutches of the cat, and took the poor little guy, still full of life out to the end of the property and let him loose into the woods.
As I looked at the injured, still very alive mouse running off into the night, I could not help but be amazed at his survival instinct. He was injured, surely hurting, and yet still it was not in him at all to ever give up. His nature was pure survival. To just continue kicking.
Yet, many of us, with chronic conditions, are so ready to give up, tired of medications all day, pain, fatigue, whatever. We complain, we bitch and we moan. We have decades of life handed to us and yet we appreciate it not. Even if the years we have may not be as comfortable as we would like, we have them. Appreciate them. What’s the life span of a mouse? He/she is going to fight for every moment they have on this planet, and make the most of it, even if they are bleeding and battered. Maybe we should all take a lesson from the mouse.