Not One for the Squeamish

Earlier this evening I was walking down Bag Lane en route to the post box when my foot slipped on something. I looked down to identify the cause and found that I had stepped on the flattened and disembodied head of a squirrel, and what had caused me to slip was the mess of brains spreading out behind it. And one of its legs was lying a foot or two away (if you’ll excuse the unintentional pun.)

That’s not very nice, is it?

And now I can’t think of a way to end this mini – and rather unpleasant – post except to say that my subsequent dinner was vegetarian as always.