Matthew Panter: If it wasn't for that pesky mouse!

As I entered the garden shed and opened a partially squashed cardboard box, one left over from a house move, there it lay.

No longer was this red, black and white neckwear laid out in pristine condition. It had been reduced to tatters, threadbare and hole-ridden. A truly sorry sight.

I was, of course, partly to blame. I’d left it to fester in a box in an unfitting place.

But it had been ruthlessly attacked and I was left fuming. This was, after all, a memory from my student days.

Forget an act of imperialism or the assassination of an archduke, this had caused a war. I wanted to discover the root cause of this destruction.

I assumed it was a mouse and this proved the case. One morning, I took some seed out to place on the bird table, sparrows chirping excitedly in a neighbouring garden’s tree as they waited for their breakfast.

And there, sat on the bird table, was a garden mouse, feeding on the last remnants of the previous day’s seed.

He looked up at me and then, rather than quickly fleeing, went about his business, happily nibbling on a nut.

As I moved closer, he scooted off but was in no rush, totally unfazed by my presence.

Days later, he continued his path of destruction. This time attacking a garden glove in the shed.

I felt I had to act. He needed to be stopped but how?

I had hoped the neighbour’s cat might act as a deterrent. He is often in our garden but, as it turned out, he is extremely lazy. Rattle a box of biscuits and he’ll be on you like a shot.

Expect him to exert himself by running to catch a mouse? No chance.

I mean, you can knock cartoon felines such as Sylvester or Tom all you like. Their efforts regularly end in spectacular failure – a cartoon frying pan to the face or worse – but at least they had spirit and would have a go at catching their foe.

But no, the neighbour’s cat couldn’t be bothered and so it was down to me.

Except, I have no ruthless streak. I couldn’t bear the idea of an inhumane trap and so I opted for one where you pop a nut or two in the box and the door supposedly closes them in. The next day, you check, the mouse is trapped and you release him or her in the wild, a good distance from home. Hey presto, everybody’s happy, including your new set of garden gloves.

Alas, this little rodent was to prove speedier than Speedy Gonzales, as clever as Jerry and mightier than Mighty Mouse. And he faced danger, like DangerMouse.

Sure, I found the trap door closed but no mouse and ... no nuts. He’d gone in, won his prize and escaped in a flash.

I’d been beaten. The battle was lost and, now, I’ve given up.

I’m only reflecting on this tale because, with spring well and truly in the air, I have – aside from this pesky mouse – been enjoying seeing so many animals at the nature reserve, which is in walking distance of my home.

It’s been a joy these last few days, as the weather warms up, to go on a walk to the lake and see the sun shimmer on the water’s surface.

Seven cygnets have hatched, and glide across the water with their proud parents. A goose is currently nesting near the water’s edge, waiting for her brood to arrive.

There’s a stalking heron, an egret and a whole host of squirrels, leaping from tree to tree.

It really does make you feel better about life when you see such sights, an opportunity to escape from the challenges that life throws at you.

Forget Christmas, I wish it could be spring every day, especially around the nature area by me. I just wish I could persuade my mouse foe that’s it a better spot for him too.

I’d even give him the remainder of my scarf if I could persuade him!