The face of a murderer.

For the second time in 1.5 weeks, Boris has caught a mouse in our back yard. They hang out around our vegetable beds.

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The problem is that he doesn’t know WHAT to do with it. He bites it once or twice, then stares at it with a great deal of interest as it squirms in pain. Then he bites it once or twice, and stares as it twitches. It’s his greatest triumph, but he has absolutely NO idea that he’s actually supposed to eat it.

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The scab in his left eyebrow is from the mouse that he got next to our fence last weekend. Both times I’ve had to decapitate the (large!!!) mouse with a shovel. Last time it was a quick dispatch, one stroke and the mouse’s head was totally separated from it’s body. This time, it was dark and I was operating by flashlight. It took 3 strokes with the shovel this time. And one of the mouses eyes was popped out of the socket. It was horrifying.

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Remember that when you’re cuddling with him. He’s a mouse murderer.

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