I was mad at my cat, because he managed to bring a mouse into my bedroom from outside, but he was not good enough at hunting to catch it.
The first thing I realized is that this is //my// fault. The platonic ideal of the cat may know what to do with a mouse, but for the animal that grew up playing 'mouse' with me, the whole point of the game was not to feed itself, but the adrenaline of the chase. In fact, an actual live mouse is about 100x better than the toy, even with a human running the game. So, really, using my logic, the cat was able to improve upon my technology.
In the end, I did not want to sleep in the same room as a mouse, because humans don't have any use for them. I automatically asumed it wanted something from me. Like what... a blanket? I don't think it could take that if it wanted to anyway. I think we are programmed to fear animals we might not have relationships to. Like its dirty. Like 'oh that one might have x or y disease!' Hey! You are about just as likely as that particular rodent. If you study germs even a little, you understand the odds are stacked against you from every bus stop that's ever touched a person's ass. No need o fear mr mouse. You could CRUSH that dude if he threatened you.
But I let my cats have it outside. They can get their thrills, but I want to sleep soon, and their game is intense and loud. They can conquer elsewhere and perform their instinctual desires in the kitty nightclub that is our front yard.
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