Title: The Moisikin Duet
On New Year’s even 2020 I rescued a woodmouse who gave birth that very night to 5 babies. I couldn’t throw them out into the wintry night, so looked after them and in the end gave them a Forever Home.
I have a special relationship with the mother, who is called Moisikin.
Her cage has glass sides and a metal grating top. When I see her, I go to the cage and sing to her through the top of the cage.
“Moiskin… I love you …. I love you… Moisikin!”
In turn, when she sees me she climbs to the highest point in the cage, stands on her back legs looking up at me, with her front paws clasped to her chest like a bosomy opera singer!
I like to think she is singing back to me.
The mice know me as Woomyn, of the species Hoomyn, which includes Moomyns (men).
Including her children beneath the stage, from left to right:
Houdini, Little Bernard, Big Fleur, Little Fleur and Big Bernard.
Tilly dancing along the clothing rail. “Whee!” she peeped as she catapulted her teeny-tiny body through the air.
“Oh Tilly,” said Woomyn. “You really are having a blast!”
In spring of 2021, I found a teeny-tiny mouse in the kitchen sitting on the radiator. She let me pick her up and I gave her food and water. She was very hungry and very thirsty.
I tried to release her in the garden, but she stomped up the garden path back to the house and my heart broke at her teeny-tinyness and vulnerability.
I put her in a cage to rest and build up some strength for a couple of days. When I went to release her, she escaped in my room! For 24 hours I watched from my bed as she ran back and forth along my clothing rail!
I caught her again very quickly as she was no good at feeding herself.
The third time I tried to release her, I carried the cage out to the garden and opened the door beneath a bush. I urged her out of bed and reluctantly she stepped over the threshold onto a leaf.
She was so light and tiny that the leaf did not even bend…
She sniffed. Looked around…
…and stepped back into the cage.
I had found blood in the cage after the first two releases and it turned out that half her tail had been savaged. It eventually dropped off and healed very well. She has a tail, but not as long as her species woodmouse, or long-tailed field mouse, is famed for. She is a Not-So-Long-Tailed Fieldmouse!
Also, she is blind … hence why she had no qualms initially at me picking her up. No way would she have survived in the wild. She too now has a Forever Home with me!
There are more Tails of Tilly to come!
Title: I Threw My Heart At You
I think we have all experienced a sense of unrequited romantic love at some point … it may even be that we are loved back, but not really, not truly, not in the fulsome way that we wish to be loved and give in our love …
I was having one of those fabulous girly chats with a friend about past relationships when my friend said, “I threw my heart at him…”
This image appeared to me immediately and stuck with me for days, pressing to be manifested.
It was an interesting process as the meanings for me personally developed as I drew.
Often we can feel victimised in unrequited love, yet look at my stance – how powerful it is, in spite of the obvious pain of tearing my own heart from my breast.
Above we have a Mouse Cupid – is he going to strike for true love, or target his large eyes and leave him half-blind like King Harold?
And the Tug-o-War Mice at the bottom … they began as a mouse gang working in my favour, pulling his sexual desire towards me, but ended up taking revenge by ensuring he never get an erection ever again!
And who is in the centre? My beautiful rat Tux, whom you met on my Self-Portraits page. In death she has become my Guardian Rat. Here she gives me back a healthy, red, fulsome heart in return for the anaemic heart wrapped in barbed wire (illustrating my pain) that I have lobbed at this unworthy guy.
Title: Hickery Dickery What Makes Me Tickery
One night, I lay in bed unable to sleep. Suddenly I became aware of the racket around me … mouse and rat wheels from six cages rattaty-tattaty clattering round and round.
I saw an image of me crammed inside a grandfather clock, squeezed around the cogs and wheels, wherein ran the mice and rats.
Even though this picture does not convey the grandfather clock, it does convey a personal truth: namely that my relationships with rats, mice and animals in general is “what makes me tick”!