Perhaps the biggest faux-paw in this little mouse's life was that Moosey was named Moosey, instead of Mousey. I don't know if his Mother couldn't spell, or perhaps it was a misprint in the neonatal unit, but poor little Moosey struggled with low self-esteem his whole life. How could he help it? His right leg had worn down to a pin and someone scotch taped a dunce cap to his head.
Even the cat was bored with him.
Moosey spent most of his youth in corners.
He was singled out as a dunce, a dope, a doofus by most of his peers and all of his teachers.
They thought he was pea-brained, halfwitted and daft.
And, I don't know, maybe it was the meeting between Faceless and he, or perhaps it was his adorable beady eyes, but I saw more than a crippled imbecile.
I wanted to educate him. He showed me the book his teachers gave him when he grew up.
I told him , "Moosey, no wonder you grew up with no self-esteem." I set out to educate him myself. we started with Charlotte's Web.
We moved on to Stuart Little, and then..
Moosey absorbed knowledge like a sponge. he begged for more!!!
I assigned him Rudyard Kipling and the next day, he was writing his thesis.... So, this is the last book I gave him and then I had to press on with MY life. Well, actually, I had to make dinner....
I told him I would check back in with him in the future, but for now, I had some reading to do. I imagine Moosey will be spilling quite an intelligent yarn the next time we see him. The bar is set fairly high, and I am pretty darn short!
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