In the old Yuletide tale, the storytelling goes this way: “’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.” Well, in our story today, there are lots of mice to be found scrounging around—and even a cat, constantly and frantically chasing after them!
Now, everyone knows that cats are the natural enemies of mice—but, once in a while, the usual order of things gets shaken up a bit—and when that happens, well, it makes for a pretty interesting tale all around.
Take the one about that old tomcat Brutus’ Christmas mouse dinner. Oh, you know that one? Well, you haven’t heard my version—which, by the way, is the real one—so, hush and listen:
Brutus used to live in a small church in this barrio, which was so tiny that I don’t remember its name. Everyone in that town was as lean as could be, even the mice—not that Brutus ever managed to get his paws on one. There was one family of them living in that church with him, and he’d chase them around all day, but they’d always get away.
They were clever, those mice. Their favorite hiding place was under the skirts of the statue of Our Lady, and Brutus never came after them there. He said she always smelled like roses and that he was allergic. Between you and me, I think he just didn’t dare.
So, that was the situation—Brutus would chase the mice in vain and had to settle for the occasional fish head thrown his way. Then, the Christmas season came along, and whole days would go by before Brutus would see a single mouse whisker or a twitching nose. “Oho!,” he thought, “I’ve finally terrified them into leaving! I’m the greatest!” —You know how tomcats can get.
He was quite wrong, of course. So, what were they really doing? Well, you know mice, they were stocking up and cooking and decorating and wrapping presents and doing all those mouse-y things.
When Christmas Eve dawned, they were scurrying about out of sight, getting their Noche Buena ready—and, there was Brutus, who was realizing that he had no Christmas dinner to look forward to!
While the whole town was all excited, because there were all sorts of delicious smells in the air, Brutus was depressed, not to mention hungry! And, the night was getting increasingly chilly, as well. He stalked up and down the aisle, hissed at the now-empty pews, and even gazed reproachfully at Our Lady and the Child Jesus in her arms.
In the meantime, the mice had just sat down to enjoy their Noche Buena, which they had spent days preparing. But, as they were just biting into the ham, the cheese, the soft white bread, the long, slippery noodles and the apple cores, they heard the most terrific ruckus. —It was Brutus’ empty stomach! It groaned and moaned and rumbled its hollow state most eloquently to the mice—who had sensitive ears and were no strangers to empty stomachs themselves.
There was no enjoyment to be had after that, mice being softhearted creatures. Finally, they couldn’t bear it any longer. The bravest of them crept out and looked for Brutus, who by this time had curled his hungry self-up at the feet of Our Lady. That courageous mouse actually went right up to the cat’s ear to squeak out a dinner invitation, and Brutus was so astounded—that he forgot to pounce!
He sat just outside the main mouse hole and watched in astonishment as the mice piled food in front of him. And, do you know what happened next? Why, the strangest thing—yes, I know, mice sharing their food with a cat is already very strange. But, this was really extraordinary: So, they were getting food off their table and giving it to Brutus, right?
Well, you’d think that they’d run out eventually, their table being small and Brutus being much bigger. But, they didn’t run out! In fact, their table remained as full as ever!
They were all able to eat their fill, and then some. And that’s what really happened!
You know how I know? Brutus told me some of it, but I got the rest from the mice themselves—and no, I didn’t eat them!