So, I’m sure you’ve heard of me. The name’s Sam, but I am more commonly known as blind mouse number two. You’ve probably heard my story, but you have no idea until you’ve heard it from yours truly. As you know, I am blind. However, do you know what that means? That means that even though I can’t see, my other senses are like crazy, on-steroids vivid (it has its perks and burdens). So, I’m gonna tell you exactly how everything went down.

My buddies and I were minding our own business, strolling around. I still remember the scratch of my little nails against that wood, and I could hear the quick, synchronized pitter-patter of the other guys’ feet right there on either side of me. Judging by the pungent smell, the crunching of an onion being chopped and the rhythmic tap of a knife against the cutting board, along the sniffles of the chopper, we were in the kitchen. Now, because we are mice, the kitchen can be both a sanctuary and a nightmare. The trick is to just lay low; however, being blind can sometimes make that more difficult. You do things right, and you hit the jackpot. You take one false step, and the nightmare beings. The nightmare always has the same start, too—a sharp, piercing, feminine shriek. That is your cue to book it. So, we did, but the problem with running for your life in a panic and being blind lies in sudden drops and faces-full of wall. All we knew was to get away from the screams and swift, sporadic swooshes of a swinging knife. The situation was one of those adrenaline-triggering moments in which you can taste the fear in your mouth, and you can’t think, but, somehow, your body knows what to do. Two things are on my mind: “Where are the guys?” and “How am I not out of here yet?” Suddenly, at the end of another swoosh of the knife, the thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain and, then, numbness. This was the kind of numbness that is felt during utter shock. I couldn’t see, but I knew that my tail was gone. However, I had to continue before losing something worse. Running completely off of adrenaline, I eventually made my way out…alone.

I can’t say that I know exactly what happened to the other two mice, but now you know my real story. Yes, the song is accurate, but it doesn’t quite do the tale (or tail) justice. According to the song, they turned out the same way I did, and I sure hope that’s true that they’re okay. Do I wish I still had my tail? Of course, but I’m alive. The risk to get food is just part of surviving. You’ve gotta risk it to get the biscuit.