The night before Thanksgiving, I was carrying an armful of firewood through our basement when I saw something I could hardly believe. In the middle of the floor sat a tiny mouse—upright, hunched over, head bowed, eyes closed. And as strange as it sounds, it looked… sad. Completely defeated.
I walked closer, hoping it was just dozing after finding some scraps. But as I reached out, it slowly lifted its head, looked at me sideways, then slumped again—too weak to move.
When I gently picked it up, it didn’t resist. It curled into the same position, lifted its head just once, then tucked it back down and closed its eyes. Within minutes, it was asleep in my hand.
On closer look, I saw its back leg was injured, dragging uselessly behind. A wildlife rehabilitator told us it was likely nerve damage and suggested cage rest to see if it would heal. So, over Thanksgiving weekend, we built a little habitat and fed our fragile guest. To our amazement, the mouse began to improve.
The plan was to keep it a short while, then bring it to our friend Ellen Jareckie, the artist behind House Mouse Designs and a wildlife rehabilitator, who would care for it through winter and release it in spring.
I know some might think I’m crazy for trying to rehabilitate a mouse—but seeing that tiny, helpless creature so vulnerable broke my heart. I couldn’t just walk away.
Update: We named him Pilgrim. His leg injury is permanent, so he can’t be released—he can’t run normally. But he’s thriving, and he even has his own little Facebook group now.
Story and Photo Credits: Neil Brogan
