One Mouse You Say? Okaaaay…

Yesterday my lovely new gardener Alex came round for an assessment.
She stood in the lounge, looked out through the glass door, and said in the sweetest, most innocent voice:

“Ah, there’s a magpie… and there’s a mouse hole over there.”I just smiled sweetly and replied:“A mouse, you say? Well, I never.”Inside my head I was screaming: Bless your heart, Alex. You sweet summer child.Because in my garden, a mouse hole isn’t a problem to be solved.It’s just another customer who needs some breakfast.His name is Maurice.He’s very polite. Usually arrives around 7:30am sharp, has a little nibble of whatever the squirrels left behind, takes a dignified sip from the littlies’ birdbath, and then disappears again like a tiny furry gentleman who doesn’t want to overstay his welcome.Alex looked so pleased with herself for spotting it. She clearly thought she was pointing out a potential pest issue I might want dealt with.I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth:Maurice has better room service than most hotels. He gets leftovers from the Walters, bits of peanut butter sandwich, and the occasional cat food crumb that Felicity leaves behind when she’s feeling generous. He’s basically on the executive breakfast plan.So yes, Alex… there’s a mouse hole.And yes, he does have a name.And yes, he gets breakfast.Welcome to Ghillie Suit Gardening, where even the mice have a loyalty card and morning reservations.I’m still waiting for the day she spots Felicity sitting there like a queen and says “Oh look, there’s a fox!”At which point I’ll probably just pat her on the shoulder and say:“A fox, you say? Well, I never…”The end (until tomorrow… because it’s the same every day)