Mogfa and the mouse

One day when Mogfa was still living on our sofa, a small intruder made his way into the house. He crept around in search of food but there was not a crumb to be found. 'What kind of place is this?' he asked himself, 'What do they expect me to eat? Dust? Actually there's not much of that either.'.


Mogfa had been feeling sick. She was so sick that she hadn't left the sofa all day. Out of the corner of a tired eye she saw something moving under the cabinet.

She startled. 'What was that?' she asked herself, 'Was that a mouse?'. Mogfa was terrified of mice.


The visitor froze. A little bead of sweat began to trickle down his forehead. This house was so neat that there was nowhere to hide.


He jumped behind the leg of the cabinet. 'Can she see me?' he wondered, 'She doesn't seem to be moving but she may be about to pounce. Oh dear!'.


Terrified as Mogfa was, she was very tired and soon drifted back off to a restless slumber.

But what did the mouse do next? And did anyone believe that Mogfa wasn't imagining things in her illness? And what was the mouse's name?