I think I hurt Max's feelings by calling him the "worst mouse hunter ever" for not finding the mouse in the house (which is still MIA, by the way) because last night he came running into the house with a present for us...a half-dead mouse in his mouth. He ran into Lindsay's room and we followed, cringing and laughing, and got there just in time to see him bite it and hear it crunch. He picked it up and ran under the bed with it (not before I could get a picture) and we had to coax him out. He finally came out but left the mouse behind. I handled the flashlight while Lindsay worked the shovel to scoop the dead mouse out from under the bed. This is how the conversation went as she pulled the shovel out:
Me: "Did you get it?"
Lindsay: "Yeah, I think so."
*Pause as she stands up and the head of the shovel becomes visible.
Lindsay: "Not all of it though!"
I look down to find a mouse body and bloody stump where the head used to be!! Lindsay almost threw up, I couldn't stop laughing and she disposed of the body while I searched under the bed for the head. Nowhere in sight. Max bit the head off and ate it! We never knew our sweet Max had it in him.
So I guess I can't say he's the worst mouse hunter ever...only when it matters.
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