A Mouse at the Bottom of a Pail

I wish I had a photo to go with this anecdote; I don't. The little incident happened a number of years ago, before I had the photography gear that I have now.

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I had rigged a sunken pail to deal with a drainage problem by my basement workshop's back door (long story -- not one of my better ideas). One morning, I opened the door and saw a mouse in the bottom of the pail. The mouse was the picture of forlorn, hopeless dejection. Its tail was underneath its rump -- surely no way for a mouse to relate to its tail. The mouse quite obviously thought itself doomed; its posture was that of a creature awaiting death.

I put on a pair of work gloves, scooped up the mouse and took it to the back garden and set it free. It scampered off to live some more of its life.

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I don't for one second believe that "...thought itself doomed..." is an example of anthropomorphizing here. The mouse thought itself doomed. That showed in its posture. However humble they may be, God's creatures know doom from freedom; they comport themselves accordingly.

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