Mouse

Troggle seems to be surviving not having new toys. She caught, tortured for about two hours, and killed an adorable little mouse. Despite not being a vegetarian, I don't deal too well with animals in pain. I can't watch the stampede scene in Lion King, hate when Bambi's mom or dad or whoever it was dies. And couldn't handle hearing little squeaks outside my door this morning. But I distracted myself because I didn't have the willpower or emotional energy to deal with it and put the mouse out of its misery myself. I reminded myself that it's the whole balance of life. Predators and prey and all that. Natural selection. Now there's a mouse with its innards exposed laying in my hallway. ...just put him in a plastic bag til I know what to do next. My stomach has dropped... I feel sad and also confused at why this is affecting me. I think I'll bury him in the backyard, 'cause I'm not sure what else to do with a dead mouse. I don't want him stinking up my garbage can, plus my guess is he was a cool mouse, and a cool mouse deserves a funeral.