Long ago, so long ago that even the trees whisper it only in secret, the mice of a grand old farmhouse lived in fear every single day.
They had warm burrows under the floorboards, and they loved to sneak out at night to nibble crumbs from the pantry or race across the moonlit kitchen tiles.
But their joy was always short-lived, because there were cats. Big cats with bright eyes. Sneaky cats with velvet paws. Fast cats with claws as sharp as needles. And whenever a mouse ventured out, a cat might spring from the shadows!
So the mice lived nervously, always glancing over their shoulders, their whiskers twitching.
One evening, after a particularly close escape, the mice called a meeting in the safety of the old grain room.
A hundred tiny faces looked up at the Mouse Elder, who tapped his tail for silence.
“We cannot go on like this,” he squeaked. “We must find a way to avoid being hunted!”
Ideas flew everywhere.
“Let’s build underground tunnels!” piped up a young mouse.
“No good,” said another, “the cats can still wait at the exits.”
“Let’s leave the farmhouse forever!” cried one.
“But where would we go?” said a timid voice.
At last, a clever little brown mouse stood up.
“I have it!” he squeaked proudly. “If we could hear the cats coming, we could escape in time. What if we tied a bell around each cat’s neck?”
The room went silent.
Then every mouse started squeaking at once: “Brilliant!” “Genius!” “We would hear them before they pounce!”
They danced and cheered. “From this day on,” declared the Mouse Elder, “every cat shall wear a bell!”
But then the youngest mouse, hardly more than a nibble of fur, raised a tiny paw.
“Um… who will put the bells on the cats?”
The room fell silent again.
One by one, the mice lowered their eyes.
Not the brave grey mouse: he had just recovered from a chase last week.
Not the plump white mouse: she had three little ones to care for.
Not even the clever brown mouse who had suggested it in the first place.
Finally, the Elder sighed. “It seems,” he said, “that while our idea is clever, none of us is willing to risk our life to make it happen.”
And so, although the law of the mice still declared that cats should wear bells, not a single cat was ever belled. The cats continued to stalk silently, and the mice continued to live cautiously, scurrying quickly and listening for every tiny sound.
It’s easy to dream up clever plans, but far harder to carry them out, especially when danger is involved.