By Alexis Metso   Waking Up I wake up but I don’t open my eyes. The air is chilled because I left the window open. I can smell freshness pouring in. It smells like wet grass with a faint hint of manure. Much to my dismay, I can hear the mice scratching in the ceiling. This house is a mouse trap. They are everywhere but haven’t bothered me by showing themselves. The reasons why are crawling up my stomach, lying on my legs, and snuggling into my neck. One is missing. He is probably on the windowsill bed. I open my eyes and look at the one nestled on my chest. The black and white pattern, which our family nicknamed “Holstein” because of its resemblance…