Tales of a toilet-bowl swimming pet "mouse"
by Nadine Wark

Word is out that a remake of the 1971 horror classic ‘Willard’ will be at the local cinemas very soon. Having seen the movie only once, I cannot remember a lot about it, however I do recall there was an abundance of those nasty-looking, large black rats, which brought to mind a pet I once had. Now I dare not call this pet a rat; there are too many connotations with that word, such as ugly, black, with razor-sharp teeth and long tails, vermin-carriers, etc., so my pet, having none of these attributes was definitely a mouse. She was white with soft fur and had pink eyes.

All through my growing up years our family had its’ share of dogs and cats but this mouse was truly unique. I was around 9 years of age when my Dad brought him/her home from a pet shop. The gender really didn’t matter; it wasn’t like we were going to let it run free to multiply, so I decided it would be a ‘she’; definitely a house mouse and one of the family. I named her Snowball because she would form a complete, white ball, when sleeping.

Our dog at the time, Lucky II seemed quite aloof and rather accepting of the new house pet and right from the onset, was resigned to her fate of having to share the family with the new addition. Snowball was allowed out of her cage and got the run of the house most every day. She loved to crouch down and lap milk out of a small plastic bowl, sometimes ‘cupping’ her paw to dip the milk, then drinking from her paw. A favourite place to sleep was in the nape of a human’s neck (anyone who would volunteer!) Another pastime was playing hide ‘n seek in an old chair that had a hole in the side. She would go down the hole for naps and not surface until hours later resulting in a full-scale search of the house (where was that darn mouse?!) Our biggest fear was that she somehow got out a door.

Snowball loved to greet visitors and had a most endearing way of doing so. As soon as someone would come through the door, she would appear out of nowhere (it seemed she had wings!) and quickly climb up a bare leg or a pant-leg of the unsuspecting visitor. Of course, there would be shrieks of horror and plenty of laughter (we all knew what happened but the visitor was completely startled!). One time Snowball went straight up my friend Ellen’s shorts and got stuck. Another time her antics took her up my grandmother’s leg, resulting in Grandma being in a state of hysteria and giving poor Snowball a good swat that sent her flying in the air. I can still hear my Grandma’s heartfelt apology, "Oh the poor thing; I am so sorry, I had no idea it was the mouse; I could have killed it!" Fortunately, Snowball bounced off the wall and lived to climb many more legs.

When she tired of her cage, she would somehow lift the latch and let herself out which led to new adventures, albeit risky. When the lid on the toilet bowl was left up this was an opportunity for her to 1) take a refreshing dip, 2) prepare for the Mouse Olympics or 3) accidentally fall in. (I go with #3). Each time, Snowball was saved by our dog who barked furiously, alerting someone in the family to the grave situation. She would be found swimming in a mad frenzy, going nowhere fast. One day, however, when this happened, Lucky the rescue dog must have been out chasing cars. Poor Snowball was in the toilet doing the mouse-paddle, the back-stroke and finally, the dead-mouse’s float. Her strength finally gave out and my mother found her lifeless body floating in the bowl. I came home from school, looked for my mouse and she was nowhere to be found. Mum had the unpleasant task of telling me of Snowball’s fate. I cannot remember asking to see her one more time and my parents didn’t suggest I do so; guess they wanted to spare me of any further upset.

Well, I had to take the next day off school as a day of mourning. To add insult to injury, Snowball did not get a decent burial, as a couple of months later I came across what was left of her, in the field next door when my dad was burning grass. Well, that meant another day off school to mourn once again.

Yes, all of us can look back at the various pets we have had over the years; they have brought so much joy, companionship and unconditional love. Snowball is one pet I will never forget. (guess there are more reasons than one to leave the toilet lid down!).

Copyright © 2004 Nadine Wark All rights reserved, this article may not be reproduced in part or in its entirety without permission from the author.

This true story appeared in  "The Observer" a paper in Sarnia, Ontario, Canada. It was located in the column called "THE VIEW FROM HERE," and appeared in the  March 14, 2003 paper. Special thanks go out to Nadine Wark for allowing this article to be posted here.