Mouse Heaven

As I have been frolicking in the Caribbean, Fang has been at home wrangling domestic matters which apparently includes the aforementioned Mr. Jingles. Or should I say, the probably LATE Mr. Jingles.

After I departed for southern locales, Fang discovered Mr. Jingles frolicking blithely in our kitchen sink. How he got there is a mystery to me, but as he had trapped himself there, he was fair game. Taking one of my best tea towels, he collected up Mr. Jingles in a gentle bundle and took his out to building garbage chute. Assured that Mr. Jingles would have a soft landing owing to the lovely quality of the linen of the tea towel he was trundled in, he dropped him down the gentle curve of the chute. Thus, our brief pet has left the building. The scene is quiet again.

I do like to imagine Mr. Jingles landing in a pile of soft Hefty bags, gently in the confines of my soft tea towel and into an environment of left over food on which he can dine on for years. Oh yes, he'll be fine.