Mice are nothing new here at my house–the cats sometimes bring them in. They are sometimes dead, sometimes alive, but always in one piece. Until today.
I wandered downstairs to find a half-eaten mouse on the floor. I won’t go into detail on what it looked like but suffice it to say that it really ruined my breakfast plans.
If you really must know, think back to the poem:
I love to eat them mousies
mousies what I love to eat…
