Rolling out of bed this morning, my first action was to check the two mousetraps set out last night after close encounters with a couple of bright eyed little beasties. They managed to delicately eat the peanut butter bait off one trap without springing it, and ignored the other trap!
Sighing deeply at this frustrating outcome, I pulled the curtains and Stanley, the ginger tom from next door popped his head up at the window. I let him in thinking he could eat my vermin for breakfast. But as usual on his visits he did a circuit of my little cottage, meowing loudly in a critical tone before settling down for a good wash in an inconvenient spot. The first time he visited, he pulled all my bras out of their home and rolled around on the floor with them. The second time he decided that the best seat in the house was on top of the half made Narnia book. This third tour was less eventful, but he really isn't proving his worth as a visiting mouser.