Wednesday, 29 August 2012
During the course of my routine expedition the other day, I encountered an unusual mouse. In all my feline experience I can categorically declare without fear of contradiction that I've never met a talking rodent, but this time all my preconceptions were immediately destroyed.
I'd seen him under a log in the nearby wood, and I was about seize him with my usual lightning manoeuvre, when the little creature hesitated, and then proceeded to dart around, changing direction several times a second. This naturally stretched my reflexes beyond their natural limits, since under normal conditions a small rodent will adopt the frozen-rabbit pose, haplessly awaiting his fate with numbed terror.
Eventually, exhausted, I abandoned the pursuit, and I congratulated the mouse on his outstanding skills of evasion. He looked terrified - albeit somewhat relieved to have gained some respite. I asked him his name, and to my complete astonishment he timidly told me that he was called Caedmeron. He then swiftly disappeared down a hole in the log. Interview over.
As I ruminated on this encounter, I realised that there was no alternative name for a rodent endowed with such outstanding qualities...