Muffy Tails: A New Home
Context: Muffy is what I named the mouse I’ve seen in my NYC apartment (I know, ugh). The next few blogs will be told through her experience.
My family and I usually stay in different places – wherever we can find our next meal, which usually comes from the big, shiny black bags on the street overflowing with what humans call "trash." For creatures like us, trash is home. It's safer for us to scurry from one street corner to the next. The bags of trash have proven plentiful, so far.
We have one rule: don't let the humans see you. I have always been fascinated by them, though. Humans, that is. I find it curious how they move swiftly on two legs instead of four. They swing the other two back and forth as they come in and out of the big, tall structures with symmetrical squares of glass illuminating our way after the sun goes to sleep. I've always wondered what it would be like to go inside.
"Noone ever comes out alive," my mother squeaked as she lapped at a banana peel. "Stick with us, and you'll be just fine." And I listened, that is, until one day I didn't.
Water fell from the sky, soaking my fur down to my tail. My tribe scattered away, leaving me on the street corner to fend for myself. And I was hungry. The humans in hardhats inhabited my familiar street and built a structure outside. They must have secretly wanted me to come in because they left a hole just my size, which I decided was an invitation.
I slipped inside the manufactured hole and discovered space between the walls as a way to find shelter from the wetness. I thought I would be safe here because humans couldn't fit, and if they couldn't, they couldn't discover my existence.
My whiskers brushed against the sides, and I climbed my way through the myriad maze, following the unfamiliar yet delectable scent.
The human had long, brown hair and sang to herself as she sprinkled different spices into the mixture. I didn't smell smoke from the fire, rather the delicious combination of mirepoix sizzling. I had never smelled such pure, good food in my short life, and I decided I had to try some.
I peered at the human standing in her natural habitat, holding an object that sat atop a flame. I kept my distance and concealed myself behind the vent, letting the direct air stream dry my body. Then, another, even taller human entered the room. The two sat and used sharp tools to poke at the food in front of them, eating from the spokes. My snout detected a new scent; it seemed to come from a burning flame inside a glass cylinder that sat on the high surface with poles next to the human's plates.
As I inched along the side, I saw a hole there, too. I thought about my mother's warning. I waited until the humans were away to explore. My ears perked as I listened to them talk to each other.
"I cooked tonight, so it's your turn to clean," I heard human one say to human two.
"I'm so tired, Lily. I'll do it tomorrow." Lily was human one.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I swear. I'll take out the trash, too," human two said as she scraped the remains of her unfinished meal. Lily followed suit.
Trash. They have trash! My eyes darted to the bin. I watched as human two blew air into the sweet-smelling flame in the cylinder, making it go out. Then, she turned off the lights in the room before they exited. Then, the room was quiet. Since the humans had left, I decided it was safe.
I squeezed through the opening and pitter-pattered along the slick hardwood floor. The new space inside felt cozy and warm. My tiny stomach yearned for the familiar bag of trash, but at the same time, my appetite had changed. I decided to go for the big bundle of crumbs strewn carelessly on the floor underneath where the humans had sat to eat their home-cooked meal.
My claws dug into the scraps, and I shoved my cheeks full of the remains. I was dry and warm, and the fresh crumbs satiated my appetite. Although my mother wouldn't approve, I think I will stay.