Have you ever been sure you were alone, yet had the feeling you were being watched? No, not like "Big Brother" is watching. Like this...
Everything I needed for a weekend of music was packed in my 2011 Hyundai Sonata, so I locked the house, climbed in the car, and was headed south toward Sahuarita, AZ. I exited my neighborhood, drove a half mile and took the ramp to enter the freeway. About thirty minutes later, near Picacho Peak on I- 10, I got the feeling I was being watched.
For personal safety reasons, I generally pay very close attention to who is near me no matter where I happen to be. If I am in the gym, I watch the mirrors to see who walks behind me or enters and exits the building. While shopping I make sure I am not in someone's personal space, or they mine, and I keep an eye out in parking lots. While driving, I try to stay out of blind spots and will speed up or slow down to avoid traveling beside another car for any period of time. Now, here I am on the Interstate with the feeling I am not alone and am being watched.
I looked in all my mirrors and out the side windows to make sure I hadn't been daydreaming and allowed myself settle in beside another driver, or they beside me. Nope. Nobody near me. Hmmm...okay. I glanced down to get my drink out of the cup holder nearest the dashboard, and there in the cup holder closest to me, was a little tiny mouse gazing up at me. It was not afraid, merely interested in me.
"Hey Little Tiny" I said. "How did you get in here?"
No response.
There the little mouse sat, just looking up at me as I drove. Of course I had to keep watching the road, but would see movement now and then and look down. Little Tiny would be on the passenger seat next to me, sitting up as if trying to see out the window. Or, exploring the edges of my purse and some mail on the seat. Then, it was back to curl up in the cup holder. Once I looked down to see Little Tiny coming across the console to my lap. "Oh, no you don't," I said, wagging my finger. "I do not need a mouse in my lap." Little Tiny went back to the passenger seat and got to nosing around again.
Deciding I needed to get proof of my unlikely stowaway, I exited at Red Rock, pulled over and took a couple of photos. Then I reached over and opened the door. "Want out?" Not interested in the least. I got back on the freeway again, not thinking about my traveling companion until I arrived at my destination and began to carry in my belongings. I looked under the seats, on the back floorboard and in the cup holder, but neither hide nor hair was to be found.
Inside, as I stowing away the food I had brought with me, there was Little Tiny in the bottom of the dry food bag, apparently having gotten in but not able to jump out.
"You do not belong in here, no matter how cute you are." I emptied the bag of everything but the mouse, carried it to the back of the property and laid it on its side on the ground so the mouse could walk out. It did not, so I tipped the bag to gently slide it out onto the grass, which it did. I turned to go back inside and after a few yards, I looked back to see Little Tiny jumping along after me, trying to keep up. It made me think of the childhood story book, "Are You My Mother?" about the baby bird who goes looking for its mother and questions all kinds of other critters, farm equipment and even a large backhoe. I picked up the pace and made it to the porch steps ahead of Little Tiny, who chose to go under the porch instead climbing the stairs. And, that's it. The story of Little Tiny, a mouse's adventure.
Tell a story to someone today. A story does not have to teach, have a moral, or drive home a point, it can be merely delightful. The teller tells, the listener listens, and something wonderful happens. You can count on it.