It’s 4:00 am. I’m sleeping, but slowly get roused from my slumber to the sound of small squeaks. I get up, concerned that my precious kitty-cat is in grave danger. I did not expect to find him sitting with his paws in front of him, carefully playing with a small mouse.
I was stunned, as I was still sleepy, and my first thought was “I must save this mouse! I will grab him with my bare hands!” I soon realized this was a most stupid idea, as I had no idea how to grab mice with my bare hands. I decided that if Gandalf was to live with me in the bush, then he must begin his training as guard cat, so I left the mouse to his fate.
As it happens, Gandalf had more friendly plans than I anticipated. He decided that mice are for play-dates, not for eating. So, I had the pleasure of listening to Gandalf and his small friend -now named Bilbo- chatting with each other, saying things such as “squeak squeak!” And “meow meow!” This continued for much of the morning, until suddenly at 8:00am, Gandalf had decided to bring the play date to an end.
Now, you may be thinking that this story has a bad ending, but you would be mistaken! Gandalf, in his pacifist nature, guided his new friend underneath the door, into the neighbour’s side of the house, but not before they each marked the date of their next play-date in their calendars.
