It was an ordinary, uneventful Friday evening, cool and, of course, raining as it had every single miserable day for more than a week. As often happens on Friday evening, I was meeting a group of friends for supper at a fairly new restaurant. And I was looking forward to it.

I got into the car, pulled out into the driveway and headed toward town.

About halfway there, I thought I felt something brush against my foot. I thought it was the bottom of my jeans, but I was mistaken. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a mouse ran over my leg, raced across the gear stick and darted across the floor on the passenger side, escaping beneath the glove compartment. It was mousey in

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