I love playing with my toys in the garden.
I especially like throwing them up in the air and catching them again. I am very good at it.
Sometimes my toys get to camp outside overnight.
They don't seem to mind.
This morning the Man Of The House let me out quite early - because he had got up to finish some work.
Imagine my delight when I found a new little furry toy outside!
I pounced on it, and threw it up in the air and was having a nice, quiet little game with it when the MOTH came outside to look at what I was doing.
He had looked out of the window and thought I might be preparing to dig a new hole under the pear tree.
He took my toy off me.
He said it wasn't a toy - it was a field mouse.
By this point it was a dead field mouse.
I am QUITE A BIT sorry, because I didn't really mean it.
I thought it was a toy, really I did.
The Lady Of The House said cats are supposed to be 'mousers', not greyhounds.
I did not like being compared to a cat.
But I did shout at one I saw on my walk later - to let him know that I'd made a good catch.
The LOTH said she didn't think I was fast and nimble enough to catch a little tiny mouse.
CHEEK!
