He brought me a toy that he seemed to really enjoy.
An almost-dead mouse.
First step, get Padfoot away from the mouse.
Second step, freak out.
Third step, call mommy.
I know I'm not a grown up, and I know I have weird issues with disposing of dead animals, etc. Don't make fun of me being 22 and unable to handle this myself :(
Today Capelouto is going to come out and we're going to try to identify exactly what it was. I mean, it was mouse sized, but it looked like a pinky, but black. As much respect as I have for rats, I'd much prefer to think of it as a mouse.
I'm shivering just thinking about it again.
