Right, the more delicate among you might want to pull up your skirts and run like hell at this point.
There was I waxing lyrical just the other day about the joys of nature, full of light and delight, life and movement. Well, as with all things, there is a yin and there is a yang. That was the yang, this is the yin: the silent horror of cat kill on the landing carpet. Perfect feline still life creation. Observe.
You can probably just make out the coily guts in the background. I thought the front bit was a bird with a beak until I got on my hands and knees, peered alarmingly closely, and realised I was connecting with the head of a mouse demolished right up until just behind the eyes.
Obliterating the medieval horror of the situation, I wondered idly what was wrong with the eyes? Do they taste nasty or was it simply just a ‘one more wafer thin mint…?’ kind of moment for the cat? I’m glad she knew her limits – for the sake of the carpet at least.