Adopt a cartoon mouse today.

So, I’m a little worried about Maisy. Maisy, for those of you who have a life, is a cartoon mouse, created by an English artist called Lucy Cousins. She started out her life in books (Maisy, not Ms. Cousins, presumably) and now has her own TV show, soft toy, backpack, etc. All good, right, but still I’m worried, and here’s why.

Firstly, Maisy and her friends communicate in squeaks and other noises, rather than in plain English. I don’t really have a problem with that, but the thing is I’ve noticed there are no parents in Maisy’s world, and suddenly the clicks and squeals take on a ‘raised by wolves’ quality rather than suggesting ‘easily syndicated in seventeen languages’. Maisy lives alone, dresses herself alone, goes to the grocery store alone, and in general has no adult support system. However, she does have friends…but not without their limitations.

Tallulah, who is a small chick with a hairbow, is a total nut job. She defines the word scatty. She has no impulse control at all, jumping into the bath with Maisy, for example, without even being asked. When she visits Maisy for a sleepover she gets straight into bed, despite the fact that it is still daytime. Do you see a pattern? No boundaries at all, no structure, no physical bubble, and why? No bloody parents, that’s why. Where are social services? She can’t be any older than three, she’s got no flight feathers, someone should be told.

Cyril is another of Maisy’s posse. Cyril does have parents, I think, because he frequently has new toys. However, it is clear to even a casual observer that they are trying to assuage their guilt over their neglect through commerce. Cyril always has a new digger, a new hat, a new pedal car. But who has to oil the pedal car when it squeaks? Maisy. Who has to take Cyril to the bathroom when he pees himself in the sandbox? Maisy. Who has to explain about reflective surfaces when he scares himself in the bathroom mirror because he forgot he was wearing a lion mask? Yup, Maisy. Cyril, by the way, is a squirrel and admittedly I’m not aware of squirrels being all that fabulous as parents. Mind you, I don’t think of them as consumers either, more as hoarders, so obviously Cyril’s parents follow a non-traditional squirrel path.

Lastly we have Charlie, in some ways the most worrying case. Charlie is a crocodile who is sweet hearted and affectionate in an ‘of mice and men, let me pet the bunny’ kind of way. He pretty much giggles constantly and has to be led about by the other children. He has one pair of pants that are too small for him, and no shoes at all (although, mysteriously, he does own a pair of Wellington boots). Who is his main caretaker? Let’s hear it for…Maisy.

So you can see why I worry about her. There she is, on her own, apart from Panda, her soft toy, and she’s got to take care of her friends, too. She is always chirpy, and I fear that being pushed into premature adulthood is forcing her to swallow her anger at being abandoned. One day that mouse is going to blow and when she leads her posse on a bullet spraying rampage of crime I, for one, will not be surprised.