A mouse and a moose
Moused about on May 24, 2026.
How did cats lose their snouts? All other mammals have snouts—but cats don’t! (Even I have one.) So, how did cats lose theirs? Did they never have snouts at all? I find that hard to believe. Dogs have snouts. Possums have snouts. Mice have snouts. Even sufficiently fertilized potatoes have snouts! So why not cats?! (Where does it end!? Where?!)
I wondered how I would look if I replaced my nose with a mouse’s. (Where would I find a mouse big enough?)
A giant ball will help a man survive a year on an iceberg. So the newspaper tells me. Yet a lone mouse femur will kill a man within seconds. If his adversary knows how to use it. (And I do.)
A mouse and a moose are very different even though they sound so similar. This is so unfair.
What do mice do all day? Chew on things and shit out mouse turds, that’s what. They also piss on things.
But what is the purpose of mice? Why do they exist? What evolutionary niche is served by a bug-eyed, cone-faced furball that is essentially nothing more than pair of teeth and an asshole?
Sometimes I wish I were a mouse. “Chew on this” or “gnaw on that” would be the only decisions I would ever need to make. And maybe “squeak a few times for no apparent reason.”
Then there’s that mouse I keep in the basement, wrapped in chicken wire. What is she up to right now?