Where For Art thou, Rosalie?

The wheel holds no fascination, the blueberry left in my dish - once a treat I relished- holds no fascination. Yes,I did eat it, and (humiliatingly) did beg for, and receive three more - but my point is - I barely enjoyed the juicy delicacies so blue and amazing. I did not want the apple chip either, or the fresh lettuce -- oh howI lie! All I have to look forward to now is my daily ration. I lie there developing a paunch, ignoring the blasted wheel, eating berry after berry!

The boy looks at me so lovingly,it is hard to loathe him properly. I note how he frets over my cage now, having used duct tape to secure all passages, he still checks to make sure I cannot get out! I am haunted my the face of sweet, wild Rosalie, my sweet mouse somewhere in the walls, will I ever see her again? Will I only see giant goofy human faces pressed to the bars of my brightly colored prison? I reflect back on the sober advice of the Nstar manual: was there some essential Truth of Life I missed within those sage pages?

Can this really be all I have to look forward to? The next time the boy lets me out for any reason, I will run, run, I tell you, for the walls that hold all dear to me: Rosalie, the curious young mouselets I taught to read, the vast pipe system of Adventure......