Eek! A mouse.

He got him. Not so much fun once they stop trying to get away.  What to do next?

Lots of noise in the next room as Babe jumps into a shopping bag of stuff we had decanted from our pocketbook for our trip to the heartland last month (we knew we'd never get around to putting it all back till spring). Going out to take a peek, we reached into the bag to see what was so fascinating and felt something soft and floppy near Baby's muzzle.  What could it be?  Plucking it out, to our we horror realized that the bag had become a killing field for the mouse -- or maybe one of its relatives -- that Tiny had tried to flush out from under the sink overnight. It was too late for cardiopulmonary resuscitation.

What's the point once they stop struggling and squeaking in terror?

Just after this shot, the Babe started to eat his quarry, and we just said no.  Plucked it up and took the poor little thing away to the trash.  Baby Cakes pulled a Miss Moppet: She looks up, bemused -- where did the mouse go?

Comments

[Zendo Deb]

Unless you have reason to believe the mouse was poisoned, this perfectly natural behavior for a cat....

[Sissy Willis]

You're right Zendo Deb, but you never know what a mouse may have eaten ("maybe he ate a bad mouse" is a family staple whenever a cat is feeling under the weather). Then there are the aesthetics of the thing. :)