Apparently, springtime means mice time, and black tomcat started its hunting season yesterday.
It was meant to be a big gift: a mouse on the step of the staircase.
Two eyes, a nose with fine mustache hair and a small mouth were looking at me when I came home.
The rest of the body has been eaten.
Thanks; Tomcat, I am very proud of you. But have you seen the sweet mustache of your predation?
Right. You saw it. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have left it on the steps for me to see when I come back from work.
You are very soulful. I appreciate.