Sir David Attenborough.


Hamish was pawing at something and leaping about on my bed before 4am. Turns out, he brought a mouse to play with. A real, live mouse. Hopefully, the same one he was stalking yesterday. (Please?)

It was alive, but playing dead, and Hamish looked disappointed, again, that his toy wasn’t active. What a moron.

I put the mouse in a glass and took it outside. It might not survive, but again, the threat of a mouse corpse is worse than a live creature.

This is the second time this has happened this year. So I guess the old man’s ‘hunting’ skills have improved, even if his killing technique remains pathetic.

Or, y’know, we have more mice than usual. Blech.

Didn’t fall back asleep until almost 6. Finished reading The Way I Live Now, which I only started yesterday afternoon, because the (middling) reviews of the film made it sound great. That might have been a slight exaggeration, though I liked it a lot.

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