On recycling and cats

What bin is a dead mouse supposed to go in? Asking for me, not a friend. Just one of the many perplexing questions you find yourself asking once you’ve added a petulant fluffy tyrant to the household mix. One that woke me up early this morning and then spent the next half an hour loudly explaining that it was time for her breakfast, until it was time for her breakfast.

The waking up early is something of an issue between the two of us – I like to sleep in the morning, see. I’ve no particular desire to wake up early and stalk the house, and usually our conflicting morning strategies exist in a sort of quiet but simmering tension. Which is to say that I wake up to the cat staring at me to see if I’m awake. I can’t say how long she sits there for – I’ve tried teaching her the time (‘when the big paw reaches the 12, and the little paw reaches the 7…’) but all that means is that she now sits meaningfully in front of the kitchen clock as if she’s seeing something I’m missing.

The mouse was a present, so you have to at least show some appreciation. Even if most of its head was missing – seems a bit rude to start eating a present before you give it to someone. I tend to double bag them in the little gently scented nappy sacks we use for clearing the litter tray (how did these animals ever survive in the wild? The vet told me recently I’m supposed to be brushing her teeth, too) and then I pop the lot in the general bin, taking whatever bag is on the go and slinging it outside. But should a mouse go in the food waste? I’m sure there are enough rodents scurrying around on whatever discreet landfill this stuff is going to without adding to the problem. And this tiny, slightly chewed carcass is the definition of food waste. Sometimes I’m just too hand-wringingly middle class for my own good.