Having seen the look on Jess's face when she opened the kitchen door this morning, I'm reduced to philosophical speculation upon the POINT of mice.
What do they actually do? What are they there for?
Mice don't work for their living: unlike us cats who destress humans with our soft fur and our supposed antics, and keep the house clear of vermin; and unlike beastly dogs, who make a lot of noise if anyone tries to come in who shouldn't. Mice don't eat insects, unlike birds. They don't look particularly cute, at least not to me. All they do is knaw through things, leave a mess of droppings and occasionally make a home owner scream. So what is the point of them?
Mice are good for two things: a) food for owls, hawks and cats who are not fortunate enough to be fed Science Plan Reduced Calorie Formula; b) fun for cats, and a way of proving our usefulness to our owners.
Oh yes, Jess, you may have taken one look at the kitchen floor today, then turned round and yelled "TOM! HELP!" - as you often do. But I'd have liked to see your expression if that mouse had been alive. Oh yes.