Mr. Cheesepuff and the Squeakles

The Squeakle family lived in a nest in the abandoned basement of the quaint little cottage of Mrs. Fluffenmutter–an elderly white-haired lady whose eyesight and hearing weren’t quite what they used to be. The Squeakles were a bustling clan of mice, comprising Mama Squeakle and her seven spirited pups named Nibbles, Kibbles, Bibbles, Fluffy, Buffy, Stuffy, and the runt of the litter, Pip. Pups, of course, is the name for children who are mice. 

After they weaned, the pups spent their days sleeping and playing games like hide-and-seek and tag. Mama spent most of her day scavenging crumbs in the kitchen upstairs to keep them fed because they were hungry most of the time. 

Mama was a single parent, because Papa Squeakle had mysteriously disappeared a few days ago, about the same time a new resident came into the house. Mama called him Mr. Cheesepuff, a cat so named because he was large, furry, and orange. 

Mama couldn’t guess where Papa went, and she had little time to wonder. The nearly full-time job of feeding her family now fell solely to her, and she would not shirk her duty. She had so far avoided the chubby tabby, who slept most of the day, but lately, she’d seen him prowling by day too, making food searches risky anytime.

One day, as the cat snoozed in the next room, she darted across the kitchen, gleaning morsels and crumbs from the floor to and from her basement nest. She placed the crumbs in her little makeshift pantry, a cardboard matchbox perfect for food storage. 

On her fourth trip up top, she spied a chunk of cheese in a corner she had missed before. She swallowed the crumbs she had already gathered because Mama mice need to eat too. She gave the cheese a sniff, and put it in her mouth to carry back to her nest. So intent was she focused on her task that she didn’t hear the cat sneak up behind her, and he came within a whisker of catching her.  

She squeaked in fright, and dashed towards the tiny hole in the baseboard,  the cat mere inches behind. She reached the opening as the cat took a swipe at her. Although he missed, she felt his claws scrape her back. She ran to her children in the basement, blissfully asleep in their beds and unaware of her death-defying close call.

“Too close,” Mama gasped, her heart pounding like a drum. She knew it was time to address the evil menace that now lived in this house and threatened their survival. 

“Family Meeting!” she called, in the loudest Mama-mouse voice she could muster. “Wake up, little pups.” The young mice woke, rubbed their eyes, then gathered in a huddle around Mama, their noses twitching and ears alert. 

“Listen, dear children,” she began, her voice steady despite her close call moments before. “We have a problem.” 

“What kind of problem, Mama?” chirped Pip, the smallest and bravest of all the sibling mice. 

“Mr. Cheesepuff.” said Mama. “He’s not being a good neighbor. He wants to eat us.” 

The little mice trembled at the thought of becoming a snack for the cat. 

“What can we do?” asked Puffy, the most fearful of the pups. Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m scared. We are‌ so small and Mr. Cheesepuff is so big.”  

“That is true,” answered Mama, “but you’re big enough to help me now. We must find a way to get rid of this orange menace.” 

“Let’s set a trap,” suggested Kibbles, the most impulsive of her siblings. “Pappa used to tell us to watch out for the mouse traps. What if we could make a cat trap? We will catch him and tell him that chasing mice is not very nice.” 

“Good idea,” Mama answered. “You are all such smart children. But I think it’s too dangerous. What if we catch him and he gets loose and catches us instead? He will be very angry. And he is bigger, stronger, and faster than us.” 

“But not smarter…right Mama?” said Bibbles, the brightest of the siblings. 

“No, Mr. Cheesepuff is not smarter than us,” Mama reassured him. “We are far smarter than he is.”

“Then we need to outsmart him,” volunteered Nibbles, always the hungriest of the pups. 

Fluffy, whose fur was thick and soft, spoke. “Let’s tell Mrs. Fluffenmutter that he is a mean cat. She will tell him to stop.”

“Hmm…” said Mama, “I don’t think Mrs. Fluffenmutter will understand us. She speaks a different language.”

Mama noticed the crestfallen look on Fluffy’s face, and she patted her on the head. “It’s a good idea, but this is a really big problem that needs a really big answer. Not all good ideas will work. 

“We need a distraction,” piped up Pip. 

“What kind of distraction, son?”

“I don’t know Mama. I haven’t been out in the world to learn many things yet.” 

“But I have,” Mama answered, a sparkle of mischief in her eye. “And I know the perfect distraction for a big mean cat like Mr. Cheesepuff.”

“Tell us, Mama!” clamored the little mice as they jumped up and down, tails flicking and whiskers twitching. 

“Okay dears, here’s my idea. Catnip. All cats love catnip.” 

“What’s catnip?” Nibbles asked, his empty tummy growling. “Can mice eat it too?”

“It’s a magical plant that cats are crazy about,” Mama explained. “I don’t think mice would like it very much though. If we give catnip to Mr. Cheesepuff, he will lose interest in us. Then we’ll get all the food we want without him chasing us around the house. I know where to get some, but I will need your help.” 

“Me, me, me!” shouted the mice in chorus. 

Mama raised her front paws in a gesture of silence. “I will need everyone’s help.”  

“Pip, you will help me first because you are the smallest. Mrs. Fluffenmutter grows a catnip plant in the box window. It’s closed off with a clear door so the cat can’t reach it. But there’s a tiny space under the door, and a small mouse can squeeze in and get some leaves. Only you are small enough to get inside, Pip.”

“We’ll do it tomorrow,” Mama continued. “But we must be careful. He’s awake at night and sleeps most of the day. But, sometimes he’s awake during the day too, so we never know. Cats are strange creatures.”

“In the meantime, let’s eat! A hunk of cheese, and enough for all!”  They all ate to their hearts’ delight, and with tummies full, they soon fell fast asleep. 

The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, Mama woke her pups. “Here’s the plan,” she said. “Pip will go with me to get the leaves, then bring it back here where it’s safe. You will all shred the leaves into tiny pieces and mix them with crumbs. 

“He will love it, and it will make him lazy and slow. While he enjoys his treat, we will gather crumbs. If we are fast, we will find enough for a few days. When we are out of food, we will do it all over again.” 

Mama and Pip went upstairs and peeked out of the mouse hole. No cat, no Mrs. Fluffenmutter, nothing stirring at all. They tiptoed into the kitchen as quiet as mice, which was easy considering they were mice. They hopped up to the sink counter and spotted the green potted plant centered in the clear box window. 

The sunlight streamed through the box window, providing plenty of light to do their task. Mr. Cheesepuff was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he was in another room or with Mrs. Fluffenmutter. Perfect. 

Mama watched as Pip scampered onto the sill of the box window and squeezed himself through the tiny space under the door. By sucking in his breath, he made it in, but it was tight. He plucked a handful of leaves and squeezed back under the door. He smiled at Mama and they scurried to the floor.  

They heard a noise, slight but unmistakable. It was Mr. Cheesepuff, crouching in the doorway, hissing, his green eyes filled with feline fury. 

“Run!” Mama shouted. The cat leaped towards them and they ran as if their lives depended on it, because it did. They zigged and zagged around the table and chairs. The cat lunged, crashing into Mama, knocking them both sprawling across the floor.

As the cat and mouse regained their balance, Pip slipped into the mouse hole. “Mama!” cried Pip. The outcry distracted Mr. Cheesepuff for a nanosecond–just long enough for Mama to make her move. Mama feinted to the side as the cat pounced, missing her by a whisker. She rocketed across the floor, the cat’s murderous breath hot on her back, his paw grazing her tail as she hurled herself into the safety of the hole. 

The rest of the Squeakle clan was waiting, and they shared hugs and kisses and tears of joy all around. “We did it!” exclaimed Pip, waving the catnip leaves over his head. “That was awesome!” 

“That was too close,” panted Mama as she caught her breath. “That furry orange beast will be the end of us.”  

The family got to work, shredding the catnip into pieces, the minty aroma wafting through the air. Mama beamed. “I’m so proud of you Pip. I’m proud of all you dear ones. You are the best pups a mother could ever have.” 

“We need to mix the shredded leaves with the crumbs from our pantry. But don’t eat it. It’s our special treat for Mr. Cheesepuff.”

The mice busied themselves mixing the crushed leaves with the crumbs, creating an aromatic concoction.  

“Minty,” Mama said. “I really think this will work. Next, we need to test it. We’ll sprinkle it on the food in his bowl. When he eats it, he will feel like he’s in cat heaven, and he will leave us alone.”

It’s daylight, he will probably go back to sleep soon. When he does, we will do this. But one of you must be a spy to make sure we’re in the clear.

Buffy volunteered and hurried upstairs to spy on the cat. Ten minutes later, he returned, a big smile on his face. “Cat’s in the cradle,” he said, “purring like a buzz-saw. I think it’s safe.” 

Nibble and Stuffy volunteered to spike the food. There was no telling when he might wake, so they had to do it fast. It took a couple of minutes and soon they were safely back in the nest. 

A couple of hours later, they heard Mr. Cheesepuff meowing upstairs. They rushed up to the hole and peeked out. They saw the cat sniffing curiously at his bowl. He licked it, took a cautious nibble, and ate a few bites. Suddenly, he rolled over on his side, purring and swatting the air. 

Yay, it worked! They cheered and high-fived each other all around. Now that they knew how to keep him occupied, all they had to do was rinse and repeat whenever they needed to go up top. 

For the first time since Papa Squeakle disappeared, Mama Squeakle felt a sense of pride and relief. They faced danger together and outsmarted a formidable foe through their teamwork and courage. 

From that day on, the Squeakle family lived in peace, as Mr. Cheesepuff, blissfully occupied with the catnip supplied by the mice, lost all interest in hunting them. They could roam the house at will, gathering crumbs and playing games without fear. 

Seasons changed, and the pups soon grew up and started their own families as the circle of life continued. And all the while, Mr. Cheesepuff remained enraptured in his private paradise, captured by the strange magic of catnip.