Maddox was a nervous little mouse. And like most mice he stayed in his hidey-hole during the day and only came out to eat at night when no one was around and all was quiet; so it was very unusual that he found himself awake at noon one brilliantly sunny day.
He had been sound asleep, snuggled beneath his multi-colored, tiny comforter, in his tiny bed with the tiny, white pillow when a shaft of sunlight shinning through the door of his hidey-hole awoke him and he realized his tiny tummy was rumbling from hunger.
After roaming his little house without finding so much as a teensy crumb of cheese, not so much as a cracker crumb, not even a single grain of sugar he poked his head out of his hidey-hole to see if perhaps he’d dropped a dab of cream from the cat’s bowl on his way home the previous night. But as usual the floor was shiny, and clean as a whistle.
Maddox looked left, then right, then all round the huge kitchen, ready to dash back into his hidey-hole if he saw movement. But the immaculate room was quiet; as quiet as Maddox himself, in fact. And Maddox was a very quiet guy despite his rather large feet, feet so large he’d never found a pair of shoes or slippers that fit him. In fact he had never come across a pair of socks that fit him either. But having lived with big feet his entire life he knew how to be…well…as quiet as a mouse. And so, on his big tippy-toes he headed for the breakfast nook across the room, hoping to find a drop of jam or some toast crumbs on the floor beneath it.
He was almost to his destination when he heard a sound and saw a shadow in the hall as it moved toward the kitchen entryway. As quick as…well…a frightened mouse he scurried up the corner of the cabinet next to the stove, up a light cord, and in his excitement he kept on going until he suddenly found himself atop a huge display of hanging pans that began to gently swing under his tiny weight.
Once he got his heart to stop its wild thumping he leaned over the edge of a copper bottomed soup pot to see if the intruder was the fearsome Siamese that shared the house, but the large toes on Maddox’s large feet were much to big to grip the pot and he began a quick slide down the pot’s shiny side where he landed smack on top of the softest, furriest something Maddox had ever felt. He knew right away that is was not the Siamese (not only because of the undignified yelp the creature had emitted, but also because the thing he’d landed on was much to small and much to fluffy). As soon as the animal turned its head to see what was sitting on its back, Maddox recognized the little fellow as some kind of a curly haired, white puppy.
“Beg your pardon,” Maddox said politely. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“But zees ees very strange,” the puppy said with a French accent. “But where you haf come from, I don’t know.”
“Up there,” Maddox said pointing at the pan rack. “I thought you were the Siamese.”
“Oui, and I think zee same thing about you. Zat Siamese, she scares me to death, I think. And she ees always sneaking around, til I become zee nervous wreck.”
“That’s my problem, too,” Maddox exclaimed, climbing down from the little dog’s back.
“Already I’m here one hours and zee Siamese has slapped me twice…for no cause.”
“Well she’d do worse than that if she got her paws on me,” Maddox explained, “and all I ever do is take the teensiest, tiniest bits of food for my meals. You’d think she’d be willing to share just a little!”
“My name ees Gascon and my friend I will share my food with you…eeef you can think of a way to geet it without geeting caught. Maybe I can do zee one bark when I see zee Siamese head for zee kitchen.”
“Hmmm,.” Maddox mumbled as his tiny brain began to turn out an idea.
“Wait right here,” he said suddenly.
As he darted back toward his hidey-hole Gascon called after him, “But monsieur what ees zee name I call you?”
Oh,” Maddox said, stopping long enough to reply, “My name is Maddox and it means: beneficent.”
“Zees ees very good. I like it a lot,” Gascon said, as he watched Maddox duck into his hidey-hole.
A second later Maddox reappeared and hanging from his neck was tiny bell. The bell was silent as Maddox darted across the kitchen floor, but upon approaching Gascon, Maddox stood up on his very large feet and when he shook his head the little bell quietly tinkled.
“You can hear that okay, can’t you?” Maddox asked.
“Oh oui, my friend, I have very good ears.”
“Good, then I can help you, too. When you want to move through the house in safety just let me know. I’ll go first and once I spot the Siamese I’ll find a safe spot and keep her occupied by ringing my bell. And that’ll also be a signal to let you know where she is.”
“My little friend, you have Coeur; zat mean “heart” in my native tongue and I salute you.”
Maddox took a little bow.
“And,” Gascon continued, “I weel do my part and guard zee kitchen door during your mealtimes.”
And so an unusual alliance was formed of necessity and worked wonderfully until the Siamese finally grew weary of being subverted and gave up. But even then, Maddox and Gascon remained good friends.
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