Ode to Pouch the Mouse

The other day we came home and found a dead mouse in our house. I know what you're thinking - YUCK! But it was actually quite sad because it was our pet mouse. Yes, that's right, we had a pet mouse. I feel a little guilty that I never mentioned him on the blog. Her, actually. I always called him a him, but supposedly she was female. "Pouch" was her given name, I have no clue why. We acquired the tiny furry white creature from one of Mark's former lab colleagues. He'd given her to his 2-year old son as a pet, but when he took a job in Portland, Pouch wasn't able to go along. So the little boy came over to our house one day to ask Mark if he would take Pouch. How could you possibly tell a little kid, "no, I won't take care of your stinky little vermin," so of course we adopted him (her).

Despite her odor, we have fond memories of Pouch. I never knew such a small creature could produce such a stench! Fortunately, Mark diligently cleaned her cage every week and replaced her woodchips. I enjoyed watching her drink from her little water bubble - mice have the most minuscule tongue EVER! That little mouse was a trooper. She had to have been at least a 100 in mouse years. She worked out every day on her wheel. Sometimes the pugs would bark at her, but she just kept on spinning. I wish I had held her and played with her more, but she pooped on me a lot. Her favorite foods were mouse kibbles, carrots and peppers. Hmmm, now that I think about it, her last meal was a pepper. Maybe that wasn't her favorite after all :(

Rest in peace our sweet mus musculus.