Mousie

This is a story about a Coon Cat family.

I’m Mousie from New York City. Don’t let the silly name confuse you. I’m a profoundly serious thinker. Why was I given such a nelly name? I never looked like a mouse. I was the largest, fluffiest, most adorable kitty in the litter. Not only that, I hate mice. Nasty little, dirty things with long, stringy tails. It’s an insult to my dignity. I should be named Sultan, Prince, Lullaby or Jazzy. Orie and Duffy started keeping this diary long before I was born. They enjoy mewing about the good old days when life was a merry chase through fairyland worlds of cushioned treetops and sparkling snowflakes. Not me! I create events throughout the universe and ride time-warps to ever changing realities. Family history is out of my scope. I’m not a historical feller. I’m a high-strung, emotional pussy. My favorite states of mind are lov- ing and dreaming. In love, I have thrills in the real world of mommies, ham- mocks and tuna. In dreams, I fly invisible worlds where wild sparkling fan- tasies come true. Sometimes it’s hard distinguishing between appearances and reality. What’s the point? It’s all the same to me. I love being alive. I arrange moments so life is always wonderful. Cat golf, dangling mice and tummy rubs really turn me on. When sad or sick I practice my stoic nature. I watch bright lights, butterflies and dream. I track bugs, sniff for birds and dream. All creatures love to dream. That’s why we spend so much time snoozing.