With a strange tenderness the cat presents a vole to me. The vole lies still, completely inert. The cat starts rumbling and mewing, rolling, bathing in his joy. The vole suddenly springs up, heading for a dark space by the radiator. The cat loves this game, the chasing, the catching, the teasing; but I do not.
I separate the vole and cat.
The vole buzzes around at high speed, his tiny feet a blur. Eventually I trap him in a container, freeing him outside. He pauses, whiskers spinning, not yet ready for his freedom, not understanding how it has ended this way.