The Dragon of Nottingham - The Mouse Question

"He disagreed with something that ate him," said Isaac's Dad.

"Huh?" was about the best response Isaac could come up with. But, then again, that's his usual response whenever his dad tries to explain anything.

His dad was doing his best to explain the disappearance of a most disagreeable mouse. The mouse had been leaving poop pellets in the utensil drawer and gnawing away on anything it found digestible. On this particular morning, Isaac was in the drawer fetching a cereal spoon when he noticed what appeared to be the very long tail of a certain mischievous mouse. But why and how did a mouse lose its tail? And where is the mouse?

"He disagreed with something that ate him," was his dad's explanation. "More than likely an owl."

"An owl in the utensil drawer, Dad?"

An owl and a mouse doing battle in a utensil drawer seemed a stretch to the boy. But his dad persisted.

"Owls are pretty agile creatures, son. They can get into the smallest of places when they need to. Once an owl smells a mouse. The mouse is owl food. No contest. Yes, sir. It was an owl all right. I once found an owl wondering around in the meat compartment of our refrigerator. Standing there as though it couldn't decide which cut of meat he'd like better, the rump roast or the sweet sausage. Me? I'd have gone with the sweet sausage. No contest. But then it noticed me watching, and flew off. But not before grabbing an egg and dropping it on my head in response to the intrusion. Definitely an owl. On second thought, maybe the mouse was set upon by an army of red ants. They're nasty little buggers when they want something. The mouse never stood a chance. I'm surprised they left the tail, though. I'm told the tail is quite tasty."

Isaac then went to his mom with the mouse question.

"Your father means well," said his mom. "But you know your father. If he doesn't have a proper answer, he'll say the first thing that enters his head. The first time I saw your father, he was reading a book in the park. I thought him to be the handsomest man ever, so I walked up to him and said, 'I love a well-read man. And he said, 'Am I really that red? I'm afraid I've been sitting in the sun longer than I intended.' I knew immediately that this wonderful man needed looking after. So I decided to take the job. But as far as your mouse question, maybe the mouse was simply tired of dragging around that long, troublesome tail. And he simply went into the drawer for the proper knife with which to chop it off."

Isaac was now concerned that his mom was finally catching up with his dad in her poor ability to make any sense. 

"I'm kidding!" said his mom. "For goodness sake, Isaac, don't make such a face. Have you gone and lost your sense of humor?"

Isaac blushed and gave his mom a hug.

"You had me worried for a minute, Mom."

Isaac then thought he'd go next door and ask his friend Alfred the mouse question.

When the neighbor's door opened, there stood Alfred's mom.

"Is Alfred home?"

"Which Alfred?"

"Huh?"

"Big Alfred or little Alfred?"

Isaac was only aware of one Alfred. The question threw him off course for a moment.

"The one named after Alfred the butler from the Batman comics."

"That would be little Alfred. Big Alfred - little Alfred's dad - was named after Alfred Hitchcock."

"Who?"

"Yes," said Alfred's mom. "That would be ahead of your time, wouldn't it? You being only eight and all. Alfred Hitchcock was a famous movie director. And some terrifying movies they were, too. The Birds was the one that did me in as a young girl, though. That's the movie where all the birds in the land take revenge on mankind for its ill treatment of their species. Flying poop machines is what they are! They need to be put in cages! Waking me up at the break of dawn with their screeching and flapping! It's enough that I've got to deal with rabbits and gophers making a shambles of my vegetable garden, but now I have them nasty crows, with their beady little eyes, having at it with my carrots! Then ca-cawing their way through my cabbage and radishes! No! You can take the whole lot and ship them off to another planet. See how they like it on the moon! No carrots up there I'll bet!"

"So," said Isaac. "Is little Alfred home?"

When Alfred's mom turned to lead Isaac into the house, he noticed the poop splatter on the back of her tattered sweater. It resembled a splotchy battlefield. As if the birds had zeroed in on their target and fired. Bombs away! Splash! Sploop! Splot! Mission accomplished, boys! Back to the trees! This battles over! The carrots are on me!

Up in Alfred's bedroom, Isaac let out a sigh of relief.

"You okay, Isaac?"

"I was just talking to your mom."

"That explains it. She's in a foul mood today. Dad's gone fishing and she can't find the firecrackers."

"Firecrackers?"

"Mom uses them to scare the birds out of her garden, but Dad hid them because of complaints from the neighbors. This morning I saw my mom talking to a policeman in the backyard. She looked agitated. Then she started flapping her arms like a bird and ran through her vegetable garden, shouting, 'Ca-caw! Ca-caw!' The police officer just scratched his head and gave her a ticket. But that won't stop her. My mom told him he ought to be giving tickets to the birds. That's when the officer got out of there real fast. But enough about that. Let's see this mouse tail."
Isaac reached into the front pocket of his jeans and came out with the long tail.

"Give it here," said Alfred. "I'll put it under the microscope."

After several minutes of close observation, Alfred determined that it was indeed a mouse tail. But it was no ordinary mouse tail.

"It's a mouse tail belonging to the species known as Made-us In China-rus Rubber-us Mouse-us."

“It's rubber?" said Isaac.

"No doubt left over from last year's Halloween party. Don't you remember those rubber rodents your Uncle Robert had tossed in the cupboards and drawers? Looks like this one lost its tail. I guess China don't make them like they used to."

“To think I wasted a whole morning on the subject,” said Isaac.

“Don’t think of it as waste, Isaac. Think of it as getting to know you’re family a bit more. And, besides, you got to have a lovely conversation with my mom.”

Isaac tossed the tail in the trash and gave Alfred a punch in the arm for being such a wise-guy. Then they settled into being the best of friends for the rest of the day.