Creek Running North

wtf is that?
I can’t make heads or tails of it. I guess I’m dense today.

sravana, it’s a testament to the thoughtlessness of humans who don’t put tiny little ladders on the insides of dog bowls, so that stranded mice can climb out before drowning/freezing to death.

You mean that’s a mouse that froze to death in some dog’s bowl?
That is just sick. I’m so sorry that I bothered to look. (and that I have no yard, and an indoor dog).

This really did *not* make my day.

I hasten to point out, given the generosity of the photographer, that Rob is being sardonic about the “thoughtlessness.”

In fact I had a very similar incident happen here, sans ice, with a garbage can and a squirrel, and it never would have occurred to me even then that I ought to put a two-by-four in there for potential drowning squirrels had Rana not said so. And I felt shamefully and unnecessarily responsible nonetheless.

sravana, I’m sorry the photo upset you. I was vacillating over how explicit a warning to put above the fold.

I do think that death is worth documenting, especially on a blog devoted to nature. I’ve run photos of dead things in the past. (One of them was up for about six months as a sidebar photo, it occurs to me: it didn’t look dead.) There is a beauty in them sometimes, and I think consideration of the natural world is incomplete without consideration of the ends of some beings. But I’ll be more careful to make sure readers aren’t caught unawares.

Chris, don’t worry. Death is part of life, as they say. I recently found it fascinating, watching a turtle in a pond eat a (then headless) sparrow that it’d caught. And you can’t say that you didn’t warn folks - I’m not often one that is upset by things that folks are warned about.

I also understood what Rob meant by “thoughtlessness” - I’m reminded that my father always puts boards or branches in park dumpsters when there are little beings that can’t get out of them - I guess it’s hereditary.

I just find that picture so profoundly SAD.

Chris failed to point out that other classic of Mousey Horror - Interview With The Composter.

I hope I don’t come across as cavalier about these little creatures. I’m actually very fond of them, and watching them suffer breaks my heart. I’ve rescued a few from the tender mercies of felines. There is a shocking, sad beauty about that picture. Perhaps my attempts at humour are a form of whistling past the graveyard.

I keep madly oscillating between two reactions - wow, what an amazing photograph - and - oh, the poor little mouse!

I’m glad/horrified to have seen it.

A counter:  have you seen this story about the bear on the bridge?