...my parents are both from Iowa, and we were visiting there for Christmas one year(This was about, oh, 4 or 5 years ago, If you were to ask me who Basil of Baker Street was, I wouldn't have had a CLUE), and we went in this restaurant called The Flying Pig, one of those Bohemian cafes with funky merchandice and java like you wouldn't believe it. I saw the CUTEST little stuffed mouse, filled with sand, made with silk in the pattern of a jaguar, with its belly covered in gold satin. I bought it, and two years later, when I was in London, I also bought some aromatheropy oils in the scents of Basil and Mint. One day, I was smelling the Basil--and guess what! I accidentally spilled a little on my poor little mouse, whom I had yet to name. That's how I came to have a little mouse friend (really!) named Basil. Wow!