The Christ-mouse Cheese Caper

Down from the fireplace, where they had been hung by the little children of the house, leapt the two little red and green, fur trimmed Christmas stockings, much to the surprise of the old ginger tom, Christopher who kept watch over the house at night.

Then, hopping and skipping and twirling on their toes , as if to a merry tune, the stockings made their way across the living room floor and past the Christmas tree that was all lit up and dressed with tinsel and baubles before heading out into the hallway and towards the kitchen.

“Something very suspicious here”, thought the cat sniffing at one of the dancing stockings that, suddenly and unexpectedly, turned around and gave him a boot in the whiskers, an act that made the poor cat very cross.

Then, suddenly the Christmas stockings started to bound into the kitchen and, before the Cat knew what was happening they had kicked the kitchen door shut in his face.

“Unbelievable”, said a little fat mouse, named Giuseppe excitedly, crawling out of one of the stockings, “It worked”.

“Well, of course it worked”, said another, leaner looking mouse called Aldo self-assuredly, crawling out of the leg of the other stocking, “I told you it would work and I’m never wrong”.

But then the cocky mouse’s tubby accomplice looked up at the fridge-freezer that was towering over them as one would gaze at an unassailable and snow capped, mountain fortress, with awe.

“So how do we get into the top of the fridge freezer?”, he asked, his confidence in his friends plan beginning to wane.

As always though, Aldo was one step ahead and, quickly, rummaging about in his stocking, fished out some large colourful plastic letters, X and Y to which he had added some paw straps made from sticking plaster.

“What are those?”, asked the fat mouse.

“What do people normally have on the front of their fridges, my fat friend?”, he replied, strapping on the letters and handing a pair to Giuseppe before, in a single, agile, spider-like leap, throwing himself towards the surface of the freezer door and clinging to it, “Fridge magnets”.

Then, strapping on his own pair of fridge magnets, the fat mouse clambered up after him and together they made a daring climb towards the summit of the fridge freezer before prying the door open with steel sewing needles that Aldo had carried up on one of the magnetic letters .

The rest was child’s play to the two nimble creatures or would have been, had the determined Cat not managed to push the kitchen door open and, able to leap, like most cats, 5 times as high as its own tail, leapt up, slamming the door of the fridge compartment shut and entrapping the two mice within.

The fat mouse looked at the door of their icy prison, despondently.

“N-n-now what are we g-g-going to do?”, he said, sitting on a tub of yoghurt and shivering, “We’ll
f-f-reeze to death in here”.

“Not necessarily”, said the other mouse, using both paws to twist the thermostat control knob at the back of the fridge to a more comfortable temperature.

The fat mouse had an uncanny gift for pessimism though, “We’re still trapped”, he said, gnawing on a piece of Edam cheese for comfort, “Trapped like…err.. rats”.

But while Giuseppe was consoling himself with dairy produce, his friend had already devised a plan of escape and started piling up yoghurt cartons, frozen butter; tomatoes, anything he could find against the inside of the fridge door.

Now standing balanced upon a kitchen stool that he had managed to push up close to the freezer and listening with his ear pressed flat against the outside of the fridge door, the cat smiled as he heard the mice start crying for help.

“I’m done for, Giuseppe”, he heard the one called Aldo say, “That cat was just too smart for us. Pretty soon I’ll be nothing but a mouse-flavoured ice-lolly for that cat”.

“Mary, Protector of mice”, said the other mouse, praying, “Save us from this icy grave”.

After that the mice suddenly went quiet and Christopher, sure that the mice must be dead, used his ginger furred paws to open the fridge door.

To Christopher’s horror, however, as soon as he opened the refrigerator door the mountain of frozen food that Aldo had piled up against it came crashing down on him like an avalanche knocking him completely off of his high stool.

Thankfully, the fall wasn’t high enough to do the cat any great harm but then, to his further surprise, he saw a big red ball of edam cheese roll out of the fridge and onto the floor and, bouncing like a rubber ball, go bounding out of the kitchen.

“Ouch”, said Giuseppe, banging his head on the ceiling of the tunnel that he and his clever friend had gnawed into the side of the edam as the cheese bounced into the hallway, “This cheese is giving me a headache”.

But then, picking himself up and rubbing the bump on his furry head, the dazed cat looked at the
strange, seemingly self-propelled ball of edam that was now making its way over the hall way floor back into the living room and thought that the mice had made a fatal mistake.

Running after the cheese, the cat suddenly pounced upon it.

“There’s no escape now”, said the cat sitting upon the ball of cheese.

But just then, from the living room came a strange bright light and, looking up, Christopher saw something astounding.

“I don’t believe it”, he said as a big, fat, jolly looking man in a red suit with a long white, fluffy beard appeared in front of the fire place.

“Now where are those Christmas stockings?”, asked the old man.

Then, all of a sudden, the two Christmas stockings that the mice had stolen came running and skipping back into the room and, leaping up, hung themselves, magically, back upon the mantle piece.

And then the cat saw the old man filling the stockings with chocolates wrapped in tinfoil and tangerines and little toys.

“Oh don’t worry Christopher”, said Santa, noticing the Cat watching, “I haven’t forgotten you”.

And, reaching into a large brown sack, the old man took out a jangling cat toy and a pot of cream that he poured into Christopher’s bowl.

Now, forgetting all about the mice he had been chasing, Christopher licked up the cream from the bowl and Santa stroked his furry head.

“Poor pussycat”, said Giuseppe, looking down on the cat who was lying on the kitchen floor, unconscious and softly muttering the word ‘Santa’ in his sleep, “He must have hit his head pretty hard when he fell, eh Aldo?”.

“Such is life, my chubby little friend”, sighed Aldo, as they rolled the big ball of edam out of the kitchen, “Now if only I could figure out how we’re going to fit all of this cheese through my tiny mouse hole”.