Acrylic on canvas, stretched and ready to hang.

Signed on the front.

My sister had a toy mouse growing up that she was obsessed with. His name was mousey and she would take him absolutely everywhere.

One day, she lost Mousey. We searched high and low I. Every possibly location we could have even potentially gone in the past 24 hours. She was so upset.

My Dad found our little Mousey and decided he would bring him over to my sister in the morning. Upon making this decision, he tucked Mousey into his shirt pocket and went out to party with his friends.
My father was a big burly man with a beard and long hair. The type you knew you wouldn't want to cross an angry path with. Talking to his friends over drinks, he was rehashing all his overtly masculine endeavours, with his tough guy facade in overdrive. And that's when Mousey decided to have some fun.
Every time my Dad would go to tell a story about a fight he'd been in or a woman he had dated, Mousey would pop his little head and arms up. POP! Hello. Adorable lil mouse in his pocket discrediting his story. His mates laughed at him as this little face was staring at them from his jacket pocket.
To this day, my father believes Mousey had a personality and was secretly alive.

This picture, I reversed the roles. My Dad is in his shirt pocket while mousey goes out for a good time.