Surely, there was nothing sinister or frightening about snowflakes, unless …

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A disturbing Mouseland Christmas
Based on the fable by T.C. Douglas and updated to reflect politics in 2024.
It couldn’t be the giant Christmas snowflakes outside Scott Cat’s Marble Palace window this Christmas Eve making that damnable squeaking noise.
Weren’t those falling snowflakes just a pastoral scene-setter to innocently draw us into this imaginary allegorical kingdom of Mouseland? Surely, there was nothing sinister or frightening about snowflakes, unless …
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Were they really snowflakes? Could they be chemical trails from alien spacecrafts, as described at that strange critter gathering this summer? The black cat leader of Mouseland made a mental note to have one of his staff check this out.
Was the noise coming from the distant south, where lived a big, ugly mean ol’ orange tabby (black cats could be dyed just about any colour) about to tax everything in Mouseland that moved?
Or was this the din from another climate-control tax concocted by Justin Cat? My, how Scott Cat despised that big white, fluffy Persian cat — even as his own white-cat-kind were stuffing him in a sack to be tossed in the cold, wet canal before it froze over for skating. “Blame Justin Cat,” thought Scott Cat, making a second mental note.
The noise that started as a few quiet squeaks was getting louder and louder.
Scott Cat thought about waking his mightiest hunter, Jeremy Cat, to investigate. But then he remembered: he had to take away all of Jeremy Cat’s guns … and far worse, his travel allowance.
But with the noise growing even louder, Scott Cat knew something had to be done before the skittish Mouseland critics began to listen to it. They were already fidgety over far too many things.
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They feared the critters eager to express new ideas contradicting the old ones. They feared innocent critters harmlessly expressing themselves in a way they’d been too scared to do in the past.
This year, there had been too much anger and fear.
It wasn’t always this way in Mouseland, once thought to be one of the most welcoming places on God’s green Earth.
You see, Mouseland wasn’t just mice. There were chickens and foxes and cows and horses and skunks and weasels and turkeys and loons (although they weren’t very visible, spending most of their time on their social media feeds).
And there were cats — white cats and black cats that liked to snarl and hiss at each other more than they liked to chase mice. But a long time ago, a shrewd little church mouse named Tommy discovered that mice could form government if feuding cats kept splitting votes among themselves and the rest of Mouseland’s critters.
But much has changed since those days.
The black cats and white cats got together to form an all-cat party that’s dominated Mouseland’s political scene for more trips around the sun than many could remember.
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The all-cat party dispensed with any white cats that remained in their midst until they were just one all-black cat party — actually, one of several all-black cat parties in Mouseland … although those other smaller, all-black parties proved more noisy than consequential.
Scott Cat wasn’t beyond making a bit of noise himself — especially when it came to riling up all the other Mouseland critters to vote for his Cat Party in an election year.
But this noise — now an ear-piercing squeal — was chillingly different. The big black mohair cat knew he would have to investigate for himself. This was not the time to be a scaredy cat.
He tiptoed out of his office and down the marble halls, following the noise until he came to a room where it was thunderous.
Mustering all of his cat courage, he flung open the door … and there it was: A room full of mice. The Marble Palace had become overrun with them.
“Welcome to the Opposition caucus office,” grinned Carla Mouse, standing before her city mice horde.
Scott Cat hissed and slowly backed away. The mice were back. Mouseland was about to get a whole lot noisier.
Mandryk is the political columnist for the Regina Leader-Post and the Saskatoon StarPhoenix.
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