Here lies the late, great mouse Precocity. RIP.
Twice he had eaten the bait, left his mocking spoor strewn about my desktop, and left the trap unsprung.
Clearly a genius IQ for a mouse (12), but in me he met his match (13?).
In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sanctus (out of his hole to become a holy ghost).
Non Domino’s, non Nabisco, et cum spiritu tuo – Fritos, & peanut butter laid him low.
Let he who enters my study unbidden be of good cheer and good manners.
But he who defecates upon my desk is doomed.
Jif is irresistible, apparently.
Services Thursday at the Department of Refuse Collection, no pets allowed.