In the barn, on the south side where the cat likes to play, he found a dying mouse.
It was small but already held the stench of death.
The mouse was bleeding from one eye with a gash running up its left side.
The cat was playing with it, allowing the poor creature to run away before catching its tail with his paw.
He plucked the mouse from the cat’s paw and held it to his face, ignoring the blood that warmed his cheek.
With a quiet sigh he listened to its final fluttering heartbeats.