This week’s story prompt is the statue of Towser, who was once the distillery cat at Glen Turret. According to Guinness World Records, in her lifetime Towser caught over 28,000 mice. I found out about her from the book ‘Rebel Cats: Brave Tales of Feisty Felines’ by Kimberlie Hamilton. It’s well worth a look if you’re into cats. Or stories for that matter. Or off-beat history. Or… you know what, go get a copy and see for yourself.
Anyway, on to this week’s story…
Evening shadows flickered against the cobbled path. A mouse darted across from the old customs office toward the more productive foraging ground of the brewing shed. It paused under the statue, perhaps some remnant of ancestral memory inspired extra caution.
It looked up toward my rooftop vantage point at the precise moment the moon dropped her blanket of cloud. I froze, disturbing not even one mote of dust, but the moonlight was shining full on me. I suspected my hunt was up, for the time being at any rate. A moment later it scurried on leaving a small heap of droppings beneath the statue of my great-great-great-great-great- (you know, I lose count) grandmother. An insult that I would not let stand. To be fair, I’d planned to eat the creature anyway, but, you know…
The moonlight glinted strangely off my ancestor’s bronze as I turned to track the mouse. I held myself still for a heartbeat longer, curious to know what I had seen. Was it the light or had the likeness of my forebear moved? With a subtle shake, cold hard metal was replaced with soft, silent fur. Very-great-grandmother turned to stalk our prey.
My heart soared with pride and joy. Tonight I would not hunt alone. I slipped into the shadows to join the chase.
Brandon Lim 