The other evening Corinna and I had been watching television when I saw something small and brown scurrying along the skirting board. It was a tiny mouse.
A few minutes later I felt it climbing up my neck, but as soon as I tried to catch him, my reactions dulled as they are by diabetes were too slow and he scuttled away.
We then heard it causing havoc in the woodpile, and eventually Corinna caught it as it climbed and fell into her knitting bag.
Rather than release such a naive little fellow into the wilds of the garden to be eaten by owls or cats, we provided him with a big plastic storage box, some oats, and a pile of hay, and christened her 'Ms Murgatroyd' after an obscure character in an Agatha Christie novel that I cannot remember the name of.
She has made himself at home, but one query remains. What is she? We think harvest mouse http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eurasian_harvest_mouse
But what do you think?
PS. You may wonder why we are so shure she is a she. It is simple, when Matthew and Emma were here yesterday we showed her to them, and she had given birth to two tiny babies that we (me actually) have named Hinchcliffe and Harrington. (Don't ask)
Further news as we get it..