The mouse that roared

She kept an eclectic menagerie of pets and wild animals and signed everything, from paintings to cheques, with a tiny mouse. Claire Jackson revisits the all-too-short life of wildlife artist Mouse Macpherson

- Claire Jackson

A PREGNANT labrador waddles past the picture windows and settles in a shady spot on the lawn. A tree buzzes; Louie Warburton-Lee takes a look. ‘They’re not my bees,’ she observes, gently guiding me towards a beautiful office space across the courtyard. A loyal cocker spaniel follows, keen not to miss anything.

Laid out on the awaiting table are piles of sketchbooks containing studies of fungi, wildflowers, plants, fish, shells and all sorts of wonders from the natural world. The paintings feature a bold, yet strictly observational palette and are packed with detail. Many could almost be scientific drawings, although not many botanical illustrators would sign their work with a tiny mouse —the signature of wildlife artist Mouse Macpherson (1940–86). Her daughter, Mrs Warburton-Lee, has begun making many of Macpherson’s original pieces available as prints and charming cards through the newly launched project Wildlife By Mouse.

Macpherson liked to be surrounded by her subject matter: as well as her beloved ponies (Man and Woman), Mrs Warburton-Lee remembers growing up with an eclectic menagerie of pets and recuperating wild animals. ‘There were two red squirrels called Alice and Solomon that used to run up and down the curtains and we often had owls and kestrels—people would bring them to us after finding them by the side of the road,’ she recalls. ‘We had a peregrine that had hit a high-voltage wire and sliced off its wing.’