Three Live Mice!

I only wanted to introduce him to the family. A mouse I found and knowing that I’m supposed to do something with mice (I couldn’t quite remember what), and making up for the lack of mice at Christmouse I decided to familiarize him with them. They weren’t very pleased and wouldn’t let me or Morgan in the kitchen for ages and when I did go back in, the mouse was nowhere to be seen and hiss smell was waning so I lost interest and went to bed.
The next day Morgan copied me and brought in a mouse, Katty just came in and he was sitting there with a very pleased Morgan. I missed the excitement because I was outside playing but they managed to get him off the mouse. However, the excitement came again when I was upstairs resting my head. Katty was fussing me and suddenly we both heard the commotion; “Morgan’s got another mouse!” I jumped up and ran downstairs to the source of the shouting: a disgruntled mum and dad with a crazed Morgan who was trying to get away with a very frightened mouse. The frightened mouse was got by mum who picked him up and it seemed the mouse was so frightened that he ran up her sleeve to find refuge. For some reason mum did not like this and proceeded to squirm and the very frightened mouse seemed to make mum very frightened. I was in awe as I have never seen a mouse take like that to a human, I thought they were as frightened of them as they are of us but it appears I was mistaken, the mouse took very well to mum (I’m not a big fan of mum because she likes to ‘de-flea’ me and shove tablets down my throat). Unfortunately mum didn’t have the same affection for the mouse and scrambled outside screaming whilst the mouse proceeded to run all over her body. At this point I could go no further as my flap had been locked. However, I got a good view out from the kitchen window and mum continued to try to locate him. Once she found him she cupped her hands around him and carefully placed him back in the hedge so he could hopefully find his family.
The excitement tired me out but still, it was so much fun I hope Morgan brings a mouse home to play with again!

The One That Got Away

When Morgan goes out hunting it usually means the end of a life for some poor being so on Sunday when he brought his prey in our garden again it seemed no different. On second glance though the victim wasn't a tiny dormouse or inexperienced bird, it was a pigeon. Almost as big as him, for once Morgan gave up a fight as soon as he saw the eyes looking at him in horror from the house. This is very strange for feisty Morgan as he is not one for giving up but he did, and unusually walked in the house and went to lie down on the chair and went to sleep. In our house through bitter experience we have a drill we carry out whenever we discover a living casualty within our boundaries and this time was no different; get both Morgan and Scooby in, lock the cat flap, go out and see the injuries, put something over them to protect it whilst it recovers from shock however more often than not with Morgan's victims the shock or injures killed them within minutes. Not this pigeon though. His (I'll call it a him for the sake of argument) chest and beak had blood on them but he was breathing (always a good sign). This pigeon must have been a fighter because two hours later he was in the same place and still breathing. How long can you look at a shocked, injured bird in front of your eyes and do nothing about it? As he had managed to fight this long we concluded he had a better chance than most and so we decided to take him to the RSPCA as in our mind it was the only chance that he would live. So there we drove with the casualty in a cardboard box hoping against hope that the car journey wouldn’t distress him more (though I figured that there wasn’t anything more distressing than being in between Morgan’s claws) and there we left him no more at the mercy of nature, rather that of compassion.
We wondered about what fate had befallen him for the next few days as it was made plain that they would do everything to ensure his recovery as long as his wings wasn’t broken in which case he would be shown dignity in putting him to sleep. This made sense as, after all the whole point of a pigeon is that they can fly, it’s the purpose of a bird’s life. On Wednesday we phoned them. Holding our breath we waited for the outcome. I hardly believed it true when we were told that the pigeon had recovered and been released.
So there we have it, one of the very few beings that have survived Morgan’s claws and teeth. I wonder where he is now. Is he telling all his ‘friends’ about his trauma and miraculous escape, or perhaps though not forgetting it, accepting it as part of his daily struggle to survive. In any case, I am glad that he is here to tell the story if he chooses.

Musical Chairs

Scooby has stolen my sleeping spot again! I am not happy at all. I have my place, he has his place and so when I tiredly trundled upstairs to my pad ready for a nap and Scooby was there I couldn’t believe my eyes. Scooby must have heard me as he raised his head sluggishly saw it was me and went back to sleep again. That was it. No explanation, no apology, nothing. So now I have to tolerate the hard windowsill. If that wasn’t bad enough I came in when the humans were out (so the doors were shut and we could only go in the kitchen) and Scooby was sat licking himself on my throne! How dare he? Have I told you about my throne? It’s a big chair in the kitchen where I can relax if I come in late one night. They put it especially there for me but Scooby’s nicked it. Now it has his whiff and his fleas on it, it isn’t special for me anymore and I have to eat on the cold kitchen chairs. I am getting to the end of my feather.