The Story of the Cat and the Mice

The Story of the Cat and the Mice

In a large farmhouse lived a whole community of mice. They lived behind cupboards, beneath the floorboards, near the pantry, and in little holes behind the stove.

An old cat lived in the house too.

Once he had been quick as a shadow. The moment a mouse showed its nose outside a hole, the cat was already there. But the years passed, his paws grew slower, and the mice grew more careful.

One day the cat sat on a cushion for a long time, thinking.

“It is hard to run after them now,” he muttered. “So I must make them come to me.”

The next morning he called to all the mice.

“Neighbours! Please come out. I have something important to say.”

From their holes, dozens of whiskered faces appeared cautiously.

“Do not be afraid,” said the cat in a gentle voice. “I have grown old and thought about many things. I have decided not to chase you any longer. From now on, you may run through the house in peace.”

The mice whispered among themselves.

“Can it be true?”

“Why not?” sighed the cat. “I want to live quietly and peacefully. I ask only one small kindness. In the morning and evening, pass by my cushion and greet me. It will please an old cat to know that he is respected.”

The condition did not seem frightening to the mice.

That evening they formed a long line.

Tap, tap, tap went their tiny paws.

The first mouse passed the cat and bowed.

“Good evening.”

The second did the same.

“Good evening.”

The third, fourth, fifth, and more.

The cat sat with his eyes closed and pretended scarcely to notice the procession.

But when only one little mouse remained, he quietly pushed a basket that stood beside his cushion.

Snatch.

The mouse was inside.

The cat quickly put the lid on the basket.

“Sit there for a while,” he whispered. “Tomorrow I will decide what to do with you.”

The next morning, the same thing happened. The mice marched past, and the last one disappeared into the basket.

So it went on for several days.

Among the mice lived two good friends, Rambe and Ambe. They always helped one another, and they noticed things that others hurried past without a thought.

One evening Rambe said, “Do you not think there are fewer of us?”

Ambe looked around.

“You are right. Yesterday I did not see little Pema. Today Dorje is missing as well.”

“That is strange,” whispered Rambe. “The cat promised not to touch anyone.”

They decided to investigate.

The next evening, Rambe stood first in the procession and Ambe stood last.

The mice passed by the cat.

When Rambe went by the cushion, he squeaked loudly, “Ambe, where are you?”

From the very end of the line came the answer, “I am here, Rambe!”

A few seconds passed.

“Ambe, are you still there?”

“I am here!”

The cat opened one eye.

The line moved on.

“Ambe!”

“Here!”

The cat had already readied his paw near the basket, but he did not dare do anything. Rambe kept calling to his friend, and if Ambe suddenly stopped answering, everyone would know something had happened.

The whole procession passed without trouble.

The next morning, the friends did the same.

“Ambe, where are you?”

“Here, Rambe!”

“Do not fall behind!”

“I will not!”

The cat twitched his tail angrily.

Now Rambe and Ambe were almost certain that something was wrong.

During the day, while the cat napped in the sunshine, they carefully walked around his cushion and noticed a large woven basket.

From inside came a faint sound.

“Peep, peep. Who is there?”

Rambe and Ambe froze.

“Pema?”

“Rambe! Is that you? Let us out!”

It turned out that the basket held all the mice who had been last in the procession.

The friends lifted the lid, and the captives jumped out one after another.

“So much for peaceful living,” said Pema angrily.

“Let us not make a noise,” Ambe suggested. “Let us arrange things so that he shows everyone his plan himself.”

That evening the mice lined up again.

The cat sat on his cushion and pretended to be the calmest cat in the world.

Rambe went first.

“Ambe, where are you?”

“Here, Rambe!”

“Ambe!”

“Here!”

The cat endured and endured. Then he could bear it no longer. When the last mice came near, he sprang right into the middle of the procession.

“Now I will catch you all!”

But the mice were ready.

Rustle.

They scattered in every direction. Some ran beneath the cupboard, some behind the stove, some into holes, and some beneath the stairs. In a moment the room was empty.

The cat stood alone in the middle of the floor.

Then Rambe’s voice came from behind the skirting board.

“So that is what your promise looks like?”

From another hole, Pema called, “And we found our friends in your basket.”

The cat understood that his trick had been uncovered.

He tried to pretend that nothing serious had happened.

“Well, I only... I only wanted to make a joke.”

“A joke that frightens friends is a bad joke,” said Ambe.

“And a promise made only to deceive is no promise at all,” added Rambe.

From then on, the mice no longer marched in processions before the cat. They stayed together, warned one another about danger, and never forgot to check whether words were truly matched by actions.

The old cat understood that hunting by trickery had not worked. A few days later he moved closer to the kitchen, where the housewife sometimes left him a bowl of milk and a little food.

And Rambe and Ambe became especially respected among the mice.

Whenever a young mouse believed pretty words too quickly, the older mice would say, “Remember the cat on the cushion. Do not listen only to what you are promised. Look at what people truly do.”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨