Mouse and The Rare Beast...

I meet all sorts of creatures in my frankly not quite normal job.  It is a strange industry with long and complicated processes - do you remember the Cheese Farmers and the tale I told of how they outsourced their cheese production to two Service Providers? one provider took over the cows and now run milk production, and the other provider is in charge of packaging and logistics?  No?  Take five minutes and scroll down to the blog entry entitled ‘Collaborative Working’, and then come back and read this.

Done that? right.  Well, to cut a long story short, after the closure of the Farm Shop due to the non arrival of the ordered cheese, the Farmers complained so much that the suppliers set up a Cheese Integration Group.  Well, one of the suppliers did.  The Cheese Integration Group is supposed to be an independent body who oversee fair play in the production of Cheese.  That means managing the suppliers and, indeed, the Farmers themselves if they misbehave - like agreeing to have Cheese delivered in August and then complaining when it hasn’t arrived by June - a full two months before the agreed date.  This is supposed to make my Mouse life easier, by having only one body to go to instead of two.  Perfect.  In theory.

Only the Cheese Integration Group is actually run by the supplier who took over the cows and milk production, and the supplier who packages and ships the cheese doesn’t really see why they should have to bother with the Cheese Integration Group at all. 

Anyway - the Cheese Integration Group were doing okay.  The Farmers knew that they had to play fair and we would get reports on Cheese Production on a regular basis.  The man from the Cheese Integration Group came out to see the Farmers with me and explained how things worked and the Farmers appreciated that.  

And then I met The Rare Beast.

One day I had my usual Cheese Integration Group meeting and in came a new creature, whom I had never encountered before.

‘Hello Mouse, I am The Rare Beast.’ said The Rare Beast, holding out a sharp clawed paw.

I opened my mouth to respond...

‘I am a Rare Beast.’ said The Rare Beast, ‘because I am very good at my job.  I have been a Cheese Producer and I have packaged Cheese and I know exactly how it works.  And I have been a Farmer too.  I am coming out to meet the Farmers with you and I will sort everything out because that is what I am good at.  I have been fixing things for over 100 years and there is not one experience I cannot resolve.  I am very well thought of Mouse.’

‘Oh I...’ said I, about to welcome him and tell him all about the problems we have had with the Cheese Production Process.

‘Look at my feet, Mouse.  Do  you see my feet?’  I look at The Rare Beast’s feet.  They are huge.

‘Do you know how I got big, magnificent feet like this, Mouse?  I got them by kicking people.  I am very good at kicking people.  I can kick Cheese Producers and I can kick Packing and Logistics people.  And I can kick cows.  Hard.’  I think this sounds very unfair and not really very nice, and I can’t help thinking, as he is looking at me with his yellow beast eyes, that he would probably enjoy kicking Miss Mouses around too.

And so I take The Rare Beast to meet the Farmers.  It is odd travelling with a Rare Beast and I am not quite sure what to talk about.  I tell The Rare Beast, as we buy a sandwich, that I am a vegetarian Mouse and I love Cheese.  ‘Yes,’ says The Rare Beast. ‘I know all about vegetarians.  I am a vegetarian also.  Except when I eat meat.’

I think he wants to add ‘and Mice.’

I explain that the Farmers are very cross as they have had no Cheese, their Farm Shop has now closed, and they have signed a contract with a Supermarket, to supply Cheese, but there is no Cheese forthcoming.  The milk producer keeps coming back with silly questions like ‘what number of spots must the cow producing the milk have?’ or ‘What level of creaminess must the milk have?’  Silly questions, designed to stall the process and give them more time (I suspect that they have not been looking after their cows very well and some have got fed up and gone to other farms, but they are not letting on).  The packaging and logistics supplier simply isn’t talking to the Cheese Integration Group as they don’t see why they have to.

The Rare Beast scares me.  But if he can scare the milk producers into producing milk, and the packing and logistics suppliers into packing the cheese and delivering it to the Supermarket, the farmers will be happy.  I prefer to work nicely with the suppliers, but the situation calls for drastic action.

The Rare Beast meets the Farmers, and proceeds to tell them that THEY MUST specify the level of creaminess of the milk, and the number of spots on the cow.  The Farmers become very upset and argue that they only ordered cheese, and how the Suppliers make the cheese is up to them.

I look at The Rare Beast and say ‘They are right, Rare Beast.  Please help us get what they ordered.  We shouldn’t have to do silly things...’

The Rare Beast fixes me with his yellow glare.  His sharp claws dig into his own wrist.  The Farmers leave, and I scoot out, but I am not quick enough.  The Rare Beast corners me.

‘Little Mouse.’ he says. ‘I am a RARE BEAST and I have been a RARE BEAST for many years.  I do not DO things.  I kick out with my giant shoes and make people sorry.  I will make the cows sorry.  I will make the packing people sorry.’

‘But you are making the Farmers sorry too.’ I say, ‘and the Farmers are paying our wages.’

The Rare Beast laughs.  ‘I think that you will find that the Farmers will do as I say.  And you, Mouse, will not get in the way of my kicking with my giant shoes.’

I glare at The Rare Beast and have a little think.  People with giant shoes, I think to myself, are bound to trip themselves up sooner or later.  Even Rare Beasts.

With an air of frost penetrating the warm, July day, The Rare Beast and I travel back to our respective homes, sharing some of the journey along the way.  The Rare Beast does make one attempt at small talk:

‘I do not do my job in order to make friends, Mouse.  I am The Rare Beast and I walk alone.  I do not need friends.’

Just as well, Rare Beast.  Just as well.

With curious anticipation,

Mouse xx