Last night, our cat was suspiciously happy to be spending time outdoors, for reasons which soon became apparent: he had found a new "playmate", and was having the time of his, that is to say, his victim's life.
The poor mouse had a rough time, I'm afraid: batted into the air, pounced on, bitten, and then released for a few seconds for the fun of re-capturing it. Occasionally, it landed close to cover and tried to run - but cats are fast.
We are living with a little furry psychopath.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
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