You’re bound to have mice when you live in a farmhouse, which is why we have three cats. Still, when one of my cats corners these little critters, like this guy here, I feel bad. You see I have come to imagine that, like a Beatrix Potter book, my mice are living civilized lives behind my walls. You know…matchbox beds and bits of insulation as blankets. I especially like to think they wear cute little outfits and keep their homes very clean, like Hunca Munca here with her dust pan.
When this guy managed to escape, which didn’t seem too hard because the cat was about as savvy as a cartoon cat, I breathed a sigh of relief. I know his friends must have cheered him on when he arrived home—in my walls.