re: #335 iceweasel

Reminds me of coming home from a holiday to discover my kitties had found a little mouse. They’d played with it till it dropped dead of fear, apparently, and left it waiting for me neatly in the room that was my office.

A perfect sleekit beastie, untouched but for a couple of wee fangmarks, little vampire dents, presumably when they carried it to that room to lay it down gently smack in the middle of the floor.

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie,
O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!
Thou need na start awa sae hasty
Wi bickering brattle!
I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,
Wi’ murdering pattle.

Poor thing. The mice always seem to die of fright. I suppose from a mouse’s point of view a cat would be like a T-Rex.