One time when we called the police, it must have been a slow day because four squad cars responded, the neighbors must have thought it was something really gruesome with all of the policemen with guns drawn.

Years earlier, we used to have a neighbor, a petite lovely lady, who, when the snakes came, would dantily take her garden hoe and chop them up, put the remains in a garbage bag and dispose of same. Needless to say, we missed her when she moved.

I’d take a mouse over a snake.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago my mom, who now needs a wheel chair to get around, was spending time with us and I said, Hey why don’t we try to reach Eleanor? It had been (umpteen) years since we’d seen or heard from Eleanor and we didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but I actually found her through the Internet now living in Tenneessee (are there too many e’s in there?). We called her and she was very pleased, and my mom enjoyed being in touch with her again.

Anyway, it all brought me back for a brief while to my childhood and the time that I was, very briefly, the proud owner of pet mice.

My mother still hates mice but loved being in touch again with her old friend.