The Anxious Mouse

The Fable of the Anxious Mouse

By Vixy Moore

Once upon a time there was a mouse who lived in the country.

Every day she went about her mousey business, gathering materials and food for the communal nest, greeting other mice, grooming and sleeping.

One day, she was in the barn pulling straw from a bale for bedding when the farm cat pounced at her from out of nowhere! The mouse squeaked and ran into a tiny gap between the bales until she was deep enough that the cat’s searching paw couldn’t reach her. Her heart pounded, her muscles were tense, and her breath only came in short gasps. It was a long, long time after the cat had gone that she was able to calm down enough to go home, without any straw.

The other mice were unhappy seeing her arrive back with nothing. Everyone else had done their job and brought back new bedding materials and food for the colony.

“It happens,” one of the mice told her. “Tomorrow is another day. Just make sure you come home with something next time.”

The mouse felt sad, and when she finally curled up and went to sleep she had nightmares about the cat that woke her in a panic.

A week later, she found herself back in the barn. As she grabbed pieces of straw and began to tug on them she imagined the cat was just out of sight and ready to pounce! Her heart began to race, her muscles tensed up, and she could barely breathe. Dropping the straw she raced to the gap between the bales and cowered there. No cat’s paw appeared but she was too afraid to turn around to make sure. When she finally calmed down and emerged from her hole it was late, and she went home again without any straw.

“Why are you like this?” one of the mice chided her. “If you don’t pull your weight you’ll be summoned to the Elder and you might be forced to leave.”

Exhausted and uncertain of her worth, the mouse curled up in her bedding, but sleep didn’t come easily because she was busy thinking of how much better she could have done.

A week later, she went out with other mice to the silo to raid the grain. While she was busy gathering the grains, she worried that the cat was going to jump out at her! She dropped the grains in her mouth and scampered past the other mice who all scattered as well. She found a small space to hide in beneath a wooden crate.

Eventually the other mice, not seeing any danger, came back out and went back to work. The anxious mouse still wouldn’t come out. No matter how much the other mice tried to tell her that nothing was wrong she couldn’t believe them. It wasn’t until it was time to go home that she was able to come out and go home with the others.

That night she curled up and cried. She felt so guilty for not bringing home any food, and she was very worried what the others were saying about her. Eventually she passed out from sheer exhaustion and briefly slept.

The next day, as she feared, she was summoned to meet with the Elder. The old mouse was revered for having lived so long. He had long front teeth and a wealth of experience.

“Little mouse,” he said to her, “I understand your fear. I felt the same way myself, when I was younger.”

“What did you do?” the anxious mouse asked.

The Elder hmm’d and was silent for a moment. Finally he said, “If I tell you my secret it will not make sense to you.”

“Please, Elder,” the anxious mouse begged. “Share your knowledge with me. Right now I am worthless and I’m certain the others are laughing at how weak I am.”

“Very well,” the Elder said.  “But first you must answer me. What would you say to a young mouse pup who was almost killed by a cat? Would you tell them they were worthless upon their return?”

The mouse shook her head. “No, Sir. I’d tell them we were glad they came home at all.”

“Yes,” said the Elder, nodding. “Every mouse is important here. And would you laugh at them for how weak they were?”

The mouse shook her head. “No, Sir. I would tell them they were fast and brave and they were right to trust their instincts.”

“Indeed,” the Elder replied. “We have our instincts for a reason. Would you tell them it was wrong to feel fear?”

“No, Sir,” said the mouse. “If we didn’t fear, we wouldn’t run away.”

“That’s right. Fear is healthy and teaches us how to live another day. Would you tell them they should feel guilty for being weak?”

“No, Sir,” said the mouse. “But I would want them to be stronger next time…”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Guilt is not meant to be a trap. It’s a way to understand we can do better and we can use it to motivate us to try harder.” The Elder sighed, looking into his distant memories.  “There was another young mouse in our colony long ago who escaped the cat and survived. I had to tell him the same things. I told him, ‘It’s good that you ran. Well done for surviving. The danger is over now. It’s time to move on.’”

The mouse stood silent, trying to understand.

Then the Elder said, “My secret is that you must speak to yourself as if to a child. Now go, I am tired, little mouse, and you have work to do.”

As the Elder turned away, the mouse could see the scars on his back where the cat had scratched him long ago.

Later that day she went to the barn. She tugged on the straw and felt the panic rising. She ran to her safe space in the gap and felt her heart race and her muscles tense and her breath catch. And she remembered the Elder’s words and told herself, “It’s good that you ran. Well done for surviving. The danger is over now. It’s time to move again.”

Feeling calmer, the anxious little mouse ventured to the entrance of the gap. She looked for the cat. She listened for the cat. She sniffed for the cat. She tested her escape route. Then, realising that there was no immediate danger, she came out, took the straw, and ran home.