Ellen is such an idiot. I mean, it's a good thing that I can catch mice, yes? To see her screech and yell at me, you'd think she wants a mouse infestation or something.
Get this. I catch her a perfectly good mouse. Okay, so it turns out not to be dead yet, but she dispenses with it anyway.
So then I go and get her another one. She walks in the door and literally screams. What's that about? Then she proceeds to rescue the mouse (which is not so far gone as the first one). She puts it in a shoebox with some water.
Now she has the nerve to ask me what to do with the mouse? Well, doh! It's not my fault she's completely irrational and is now protecting rodents. The mouse is still alive more than 24 hours later (I think she was hoping it would die) and I am left contemplating the shoebox (which is currently on top of the washing machine -- don't think I don't know exactly where it is!). She's even given it some food now!
This is completely imbecilic and irrational behaviour. It's giving me an identity crisis. I mean, I am supposed to kill rodents, aren't I? This is going to extend my need for therapy.