I found something the other day which has brought back memories of a rescue I made about twenty years ago! It is a "mousie" bag and this is the story of the mouse named Guy.
One day in 1989 or 1990, I had a doctor's appointment downtown and since my sister Diane worked not too far away, I thought I would take the opportunity to meet her for lunch. I did have to eat after all and it wouldn't take much more time than my regular lunch period at work (or so I thought). That was before I realized that fate was engineering a little drama to come. I left the doctor's and headed for the Guy Metro station to go the couple of stops to her workplace.
While waiting on the platform, my attention was taken by some sort of commotion a few meters away. I looked over and saw a small white mouse running along the side of the wall of the station towards me. I looked down and saw that there was a little jutting out part of the wall that would slow the mouse in his tracks when he reached it and, positioning myself to pounce, it all went off like clockwork! The mouse paused at the "roadblock" and I grabbed him and quickly dropped him in my purse! The purse had a zipper closure and I closed it just enough to prevent his escape but to provide him air. I also managed somehow to remove all its contents (and stuff them in my pockets) without him escaping. Suddenly a woman came up to me who had been waiting on the platform too and offered the mouse a few pieces of her bagel. She said "he might be hungry". I was touched!
I am not sure how this mouse (soon dubbed "Guy" after the Metro station) came to be there although I vaguely remember teenagers making a commotion at the time he was running (maybe they had released him as a joke to play on the passengers?) but in any event no one tried to claim him and I would have resisted attempts to take him from me.
Now of course I had a mouse in my purse and was on my way to a lunch date. So imagine my sister's surprise when I arrived and then announced that we were being joined by a surprise guest! Unfazed, we still had our lunch at a nearby restaurant where I surreptitiously passed little samplings of my salad to him.
After lunch of course I couldn't just head straight back to work so I had to detour to a pet shop and buy him a cage and supplies and then take him home and install him in my apartment (in a separate room from my cats!). This simple doctor's appointment stretched into quite a few hours. But it was all worth it. Guy was a friendly little fellow who would come to the front of the cage for treats and petting. He also lived a long life of three years which is well above the average lifespan. Here he is.
He was also treated to fresh salads whenever I went to "La Cage aux Sports" restaurant after work which was just across the street from my company. I asked the waiter one time for a bag in which to take home my left-over salad explaining the story of Guy and that it was a "mousie" bag rather than a "doggie" bag. He was rather taken by Guy's rescue story and even made this special bag up for him. I have kept it all these years.