The night before Thanksgiving, I was carrying an armful of firewood through our basement when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. In the middle of the floor sat a small mouse, upright but hunched over, its head hanging, eyes closed. It might sound strange, but it looked… sad. Completely defeated.
I walked toward it slowly, hoping it was just dozing after finding some crumbs in the cellar. But as I got closer, I could see that wasn’t the case. When I reached out my hand, the mouse lifted its head, looked at me sideways, then dropped it again and closed its eyes. It didn’t run. It didn’t even flinch.
When I picked it up gently, it stayed curled in the same position. It looked at me once, then rested its head against its chest and drifted off to sleep in my palm. That’s when I saw the problem an injured back leg dragging behind it.
A wildlife rehabilitator, already at capacity, offered advice: the injury was likely nerve damage. A week of cage rest might help it heal. So, over the holiday weekend, we made a little habitat and fed our tiny guest. To our relief, it’s already showing signs of improvement.
The plan is to care for it a few more days, then bring it to our friend Ellen Jareckie wildlife rehabilitator and the artist behind House Mouse Designs. She’ll keep it safe through the winter and release it in the spring when it’s strong again.
Some people might think I’m a little crazy for spending days trying to help a mouse. But when you see a small, helpless creature suffering, sometimes your heart just won’t let you walk away.