OUR PERFECT COMPANIONS NEVER HAVE FEWER THAN FOUR FEET

Mornings here in the Wells woods jumpstart when our beloved tiger cat Sunshine leaps up on the California king, squiggles to a comfy spot between us, and eyeballs Mr. Wonderful and me with an “I’m dying, please feed me” mien. During the day she naps in a cozy cushioned bed three feet from Mr. W.’s favorite blue recliner. At night when we plop down to watch new episodes of “1923,” she nestles on my lap. We adore her.

Whether it’s cats, dogs, goldfish, parakeets, gerbils, anything other than snakes, I love all pets, especially felines. A wise woman wrote, “Our perfect companions never have fewer than four feet.” How true. So when I visited an artist friend recently and she told me that Mr. Jangles, perhaps the smallest pet in the world, had gone to mouse heaven, I understood and commiserated with her heartbreak. 

That artist, Kelly Jo Shows of Kennebunk, is a whirling dervish of unique creativity and humor. She’s also a hoot. Unfussy to the core, she wears camo pants and political tee-shirts. Petite, peppy and closing in on 60, her prize-winning artwork hangs in galleries from Maine (including The Wright Gallery in Cape Porpoise) to Rhode Island. That  potpourri of art features miniature weathered antique boxes and discarded vintage suitcases; shoes worn by Jamie Wyeth, Jackson Pollock, Phyllis Diller and Frida Kahlo; and headlines from the front page of THE NEW YORK TIMES. Her art is eclectic and cool. (check it out at www.kellyjoshows.com) 

Kelly Jo and her partner Heather live in a well-worn 1856 farmhouse, along with a Sussex spaniel named Gracie, a rare blanc de hotot bunny rabbit called Clyde and, until late January, a deer mouse named Mr. Jangles. When Kelly Jo found the little creature in her garage five years ago, “he was no bigger than a pinkie.” To survive, she gently fed him with a Q-tip, then built a  three-story “condo” with a running wheel that sat in her atelier. But she soon discovered that Mr. Jangles’ favorite nesting spot was in the hoodie of her paint-splattered sweatshirt. Folks, that’s love.

When her good friend Giselle Goodman Rec learned of Mr. J’s passing, she wrote an official obituary. When Kelly Jo shared it with me, I was reminded of words the minister at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City said during a Blessing of the Animals many years ago. He said, “When you look into the eyes of your dog or cat, you will see and feel the love of God.”

Here is Mr. Jangles’ obituary. hope you enjoy every word as much as I do.

(THIS IS A PAINTING KELLY JO DID OF MR. JANGLES)

MR. JANGLES

2020-2025

Kennebunk, Maine: Mr. Jangles, a beloved deer mouse who was a friend of many, stopped running January 23, 2025, in the hand of the person he loved most.

Mr. Jangles (aka “Mr. J”) lived an unusually long life for a mouse of his lineage. His official birthdate was unknown. But he lived five years, a good long life for a mouse. This was all thanks entirely to his beloved human, Kelly Jo Shows, who tended to him when he was just a pinkie.

There he was, a defense-less, newborn wild deer mouse, eyes still shut, left behind by his family, clinging to life.

With paintbrushes, mouse formula, a steady hand and the know-how and determination of a real Mama Mouse, Kelly Jo nursed him to life. By the time he was just a few weeks old, he was thriving. Even though he was wild by nature, he was also too in love with his human to leave her, and at the young age of just a few deer months, Mr. J decided not to go find his fortune in the wall and instead stay in the three-story furnished luxury apartment Kelly Jo built for him.

Mr. Jangles had skills for a mouse. He could drill a hole through a hazelnut tinier than any drill in existence. He could lick up a dab of whipped cream faster than any mouse on the planet. He loved his routine romps through the kitchen in his ball. But his favorite times were the ones where he got to sit quietly on Kelly Jo’s shoulder, tucked safely in her hoodie, watching her paint.

He was also loved beyond measure by his second adopted mom, Heather Dutton, his dog-sister Gracie and bunny-brother Clyde.

He will be missed dearly, this dear, deer mouse. He may have been tiny but he left a huge legacy of love behind.

Note: In lieu of flowers, get rid of your mouse trap.