Books & Writing

Why do I write about mice? Well, a better question is: Why not?

I know that not everybody is a big fan of mice. Mice nibble holes into stuff and they chew up important documents and books. But they have the sweetest eyes and they are so tiny. They are so cute…

Despite the mouse’s excellent nibbling abilities to make cookies crumble and words on a piece of paper vanish, I would say mice are popular creatures. Mice are mischievous and curious and many people sympathize with these traits.

Mice seem to be similar to us. We both are mammals. Like us, mice eat everything. We seem to like the same things, such as peanut butter or cheese.

Mice come in different colors, shapes, and sizes. There is the elephant shrew with its long trunk-like nose, the striped zebra mouse, who gets its name after its black and white horse-like friend, the white mouse with red eyes, or the super tiny and super cute African pygmy mouse.

A small mouse can achieve great things ̶ just like in the fable about the trapped lion in the net and the tiny mouse setting him free by biting through the ropes of the net. That is encouraging to hear.

What would it be like to see things from a mouse’s perspective? Imagine a world where an apple would be bigger than you, where you could relax in a coffee cup, or hide in a matchbox. You could sit in a flowerpot, run on a bookshelf, drink water from a thimble, and dance on piano keys. You would have a completely different view of life. Wouldn’t that be exciting?

Mice can get anywhere. They can squeeze through a narrow gap and explore places that will forever remain a mystery to us. Mice can be in the room without being noticed, which can play an important role. We could say without exaggeration that they have an even bigger potential than spies from action movies.

Because of their size, mice have to face a lot of challenging situations. There are hungry cats, snakes, and owls out there. This means trouble for mice, but also an adventure. These adventures form the plots of my stories.

What happens when a mouse meets a catfish?

This story comes from the first book of Fairy Tales for Tiny Mouse Ears. In Fairy Tales for Tiny Mouse Ears, little mice called Daisy and Charlie are visiting Grandpa, who has a lot of fairy tales to tell. See what happens when a mouse meets a catfish.

It was a nice sunny day, so Grandpa, Daisy, and Charlie went for a walk along the riverbank.

All of a sudden, a big fish jumped out of the water then fell back with a big splash. Grandpa, Daisy, and Charlie all got wet.

“I wonder what life under water looks like,” said Daisy.

“It must be very wet down there,” said Charlie as he tried to shake the water off his fur.

“There are a lot of interesting creatures,” Grandpa told them.

“But the fish are lucky,” Daisy remarked.

“Why do you think so?” asked Charlie.

“There are no cats under water,” Daisy said.

“But maybe there are catfish,” Charlie teased her while he was wrapping himself up in a raspberry leaf to keep warm.

“There’s no such thing as a catfish,” Daisy told him.

“Catfish really do exist,” said Grandpa.

Both Daisy and Charlie looked at him in surprise.

“Catfish?”

“Really?”

“Yes, there are catfish under water.”

Daisy and Charlie looked at the surface of the river.

“Grandpa, let’s go home,” Charlie suggested. “Please.”

“We’re scared,” said Daisy.

“You don’t have to be afraid of catfish. They live deep in the mud at the bottom of the river and don’t often come to the surface.” Grandpa tried to comfort his grandchildren. Then he had an idea.

“Would you like to hear a fairy tale?” Grandpa asked.

“Yes, please,” Daisy and Charlie replied, their eyes shining.

Once upon a time, there was a mouse named Peter, but everybody called him Mr. Grumpy. He wasn’t a bad fellow, but he was always complaining about something.

When it was hot, Peter would say, “I wish it was winter. And a cold one, with a lot of snow.”

When winter came and it was cold, Peter would say, “I wish it was warmer. Who can stand such terrible weather? I’m freezing.”

The weather was never good for Peter. You could hear Peter complaining, “The sun is shining too much. This weather is neither cold nor warm. It’s too chilly for a mouse like me. It’s raining too heavily. This is an unpleasant drizzle – I would prefer a good rain. The thunder is too loud. The lightning is too shiny. There are no clouds in the sky – what a shame.”

One day he said, “It’s too cloudy. Everything is dark. That cloud over there looks like a big cat. That one looks like a tiger. A mouse cannot even look up at the sky in peace!”

When he watched tiny mice playing, he would say, “Those little creatures are too loud.”

After watching them for a while, he said, “They are too quiet. It’s too boring to watch them. They aren’t playing any interesting games.”

The newspapers always made him angry. When his favorite pawball team lost the match, he would say, “They didn’t train properly.”

When they won easily, Peter said, “That was no fun to watch.”

It was even hard to satisfy Peter with cheese. When he ate it, he complained, “This cheese has too many holes in it. This cheese smells too much like cheese. This cheese doesn’t have any smell at all. This cheddar is too orange. This cheese is too soft and squishy. This cheese is too hard to chew. This cheese feels as if I was munching on a sponge. This goat cheese is too crumbly. This cheese is too cheesy,” he would say. He was always unsatisfied with something.

Peter lived near the riverbank. Of course, he was always complaining about the wind, about walking through wet mud, and about the reeds and other water plants being too tall and growing in his way. But he liked the fish in the river. He spent most of his days sitting on the riverbank and feeding them. He threw tasty breadcrumbs into the water to treat his friends.

The fish in the river liked the breadcrumbs very much. They couldn’t wait for Peter to come and throw his breadcrumbs to them every morning. The fish slapped their tails against the surface of the water to say ‘thank you.’

Every single day, you could find Peter there throwing breadcrumbs into the water and complaining.

“It’s terrible to be a land animal. Everything is too dry. I have to walk everywhere and it’s very exhausting. I have to beware of cats, hawks, owls, weasels, and other terrible beasts. I wish I lived under water with you and swam around the whole day without any worries. You must have a wonderful life,” Peter told the fish.

The fish thought Peter was a funny fellow. They kept an eye on him and were prepared to help him if something bad was coming. They protected him.

One day, Peter was repairing some of his tools on the riverbank. While he was tightening up a big screw, a hawk spotted him.

“I’m going to have a tasty meal,” the hawk thought.

He flew toward the mouse. Fortunately, the fish in the river noticed him coming.

The hawk was really close, and about to grab Peter. But all of a sudden, all the fish jumped above the surface of the water. When they fell back down, they splashed water all over the hawk, giving him a nasty shock. Peter had a chance to escape.

The hawk’s wings were soaking wet, making him too heavy to fly. He had to spend hours in the sun before his wings were dry again. Hopefully, the next time the hawk would decide to hunt somewhere else.

“What a terrible beast!” Peter thought. “That would never happen if I lived in the water. Such things don’t live in the river. If I was a fish and swam around deep down, nothing could attack me from the sky like that.”

A week later, Peter was mending a wooden pail when all of a sudden a big cat appeared.

“I’m going to have a nice breakfast,” the cat thought.

The cat was prepared to jump on poor Peter and catch him. But luckily, the fish in the river saw the cat coming. They asked their friend, a jolly little crayfish, to help. The crayfish crawled out of the water. He went quietly to the cat’s tail and pinched it with his claws.

“Ouch!” the cat hollered.

She got frightened and ran away. Peter also ran away, and hid in the reeds. When he was safe, he started ranting and raving. “What a horrible monster! It’s terrible to think what a poor land animal like me has to put up with.”

Peter looked at the river.

“Over there, deep in the water, there is no such thing as a huge cat. Why wasn’t I born a fish? Life is absolutely perfect when one is a fish. Only swimming in the nice cool water all day long… No everyday grind like up here, in the mud and soil.”

Peter was always unhappy.

There was a magic dragonfly living near the riverbank. She had beautiful wings with lots and lots of little veins. Every day she heard Peter complaining, and one day she couldn’t stand it anymore and decided to put an end to it.

She flew to Peter and said, “I have heard you would prefer to be a fish rather than a mouse.”

Peter looked at the dragonfly in surprise and said, “Yes, I would. Life must be beautiful down there. Much better than up here.”

“Listen to this,” the dragonfly told Peter. “What if you became half fish and half mouse for one day? At the end of the day, you could choose. You could become a mouse again, or you could turn into a fish and spend your whole life living in the river.”

“I would like to become a fish. I’m sure I wouldn’t like changing back into a mouse after experiencing the wonderful life of a fish.”

“And what about the newspapers and the pawball results? Wouldn’t you miss them?” the dragonfly asked.

“I’m sure the fish play finball,” Peter replied.

“I bet you will want to become a mouse again,” the wise dragonfly said.

“I bet I will want to stay a fish, once I become one,” Peter argued.

“We shall see,” the dragonfly said, and smiled craftily.

Then the dragonfly performed her magic. She flew up into the sky and made seven quick circles.

“Your wish is granted,” she said, and looked at Peter.

Peter looked at himself.

“Nothing happened,” he told the dragonfly.

“Jump into the water and you shall see,” the dragonfly told him.

When Peter jumped into the water, he grew a fish tail. Now he was half fish and half mouse. A mermouse!

And then he saw the underwater kingdom he had always dreamed about. Peter swam lazily in the current. It seemed that everything was perfect.

Peter dived to the bottom of the river. It looked wonderful down there, and he could see the fish floating above him. There were fish swimming around him, too. Peter looked at their scales. He couldn’t take his eyes off them, they were so beautiful. They were glittering in all the colors of the rainbow.

One fish with long fins swam to Peter.

“Would you like me to give you a ride?” the fish asked him.

As the fish was speaking, Peter could see bubbles coming out of her mouth. He hadn’t known fish could speak. Before he could ask any questions, the fish offered him one of her fins.

Peter took her fin carefully.

“Hold on tight,” the fish told him.

And off they swam. It was amazing! They could see stones on the bottom of the river. They swam over tall forests of underwater plants. Then the plants floated away and Peter saw three crayfish sitting on a rock. As Peter and the fish swam by, they all clicked their claws.

“Now I will take you to our finball field,” the fish said. “We will watch a finball match.”

Peter beamed with happiness when he heard that.

The finball field wasn’t far away. Fish with orange scales were playing against fish with light blue scales. The game ended in a tie.

“This is much better than our boring pawball,” Peter thought.

After the match, the fish took Peter to a restaurant where he could meet other fish. They were all very nice.

Peter took the menu and decided to order a dish called ‘wiggling wieners.’ The waiter, a smart-looking fish with silver scales, wearing a bow tie around his neck, brought him a bowl full of worms.

Peter wasn’t particularly fond of worms. But for now, everything that was under water seemed to be much better than things up there, on the riverbank.

“How do you like it?” a fish with white spots asked him.

“It’s very good,” said Peter, munching on a chubby worm.

One of the fish had ordered the same dish as Peter. She leaned toward him and whispered into his ear, “These worms are good. But they aren’t as good as your breadcrumbs.”

Peter remembered feeding the fish from the riverbank. The sun, the fresh breeze, and the smell of dry earth…

But now it was time to go for a swim. The fish took Peter to a big human shoe.

“The legend says that once upon a time a human wanted to catch one of us in his shoe,” a fish with a long nose told Peter proudly. “But he dropped the shoe and it fell into the water. And it has remained here for… a very long time.”

Peter admired the shoe as he and the fish swam around it. Its long shoelaces were floating in the water and the old black leather was turning green.

Then Peter spotted a strange fish. She had long whiskers and a huge body. The mighty creature was swimming toward Peter and the fish accompanying him.

“Who is that?” Peter asked.

“She is a catfish,” a fish with red scales answered.

Peter trembled when he heard the word ‘catfish.’

“A catfish?” Peter asked in disbelief.

“Yes, a catfish.”

Then Peter saw the catfish getting closer to him, opening her large mouth. Peter didn’t even try to look inside and he quickly swam away. But the catfish swam after him, curious. She was really huge and much faster than poor little Peter.

Then Peter saw a big stone with a hole in it. The hole was just the perfect size for a mermouse to fit in. Peter hid there. It was too small for the catfish, so she gave up and decided to roll in the mud, deep at the bottom of the river. She turned her enormous body and swam away.

Peter peeked out from the hole in the rock. He was really scared.

He swam up to the surface of the water and called out, “Dragonfly! Dragonfly! Where are you?”

The dragonfly flew down to him and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“I would like to be a mouse again, please,” said Peter with fear in his eyes. “They don’t have cats down there, but they have catfish!”

And so once again the dragonfly performed her magic. She flew up into the sky and made seven quick circles.

“Your wish is granted,” she said to Peter.

Peter looked at his mermouse tail.

“Nothing happened,” he told the dragonfly.

“Climb out of the water and you shall see,” she told him.

Peter climbed out of the water and his fishy tail disappeared. He was a mouse again, standing on the riverbank.

From up there, Peter spoke to the fish down in the river. “Little fish, thank you very much. I had a wonderful time with you. I will always be your friend. But I think I will be happier up here, on land.”

A lot of little heads popped up at the surface of the water. They understood.

“Just wait a minute,” Peter told his friends.

He hurried away, then came back with lots and lots of breadcrumbs.

“These are for you,” he said, and he threw them into the water.

The fish could speak only under water. But they flapped their tails to say ‘thank you.’ They would always keep an eye on their mouse friend.

From that time onward, Peter never complained about being a land animal anymore. He was happy as a mouse. And nobody called him Mr. Grumpy ever again.