44 days, 3

'There's a mole in my pencil case', says Kira. 'WHAT? How do you know it's a mole?' I secretly think it's among the more original things one says in a lifetime. I'm intrigued and stop working to have a look. 'See?' she says, 'it's blind. And slow.'

It's a mouse. It's slow because it's dying, and blind because it doesn't care to see anything anymore. But HOW did it get into the pencil case? It looks like it got stabbed (or fanged). 'Where are the pencils?' 'I took them out', says Kira, cool as a slush puppy. 'With great care.'

'Put it in the grass, outside.'

Later, I see that Lyra is trying to catch something in the tall grass by the bamboo terrace. I stop to see what, and eventually she flicks it out with a paw. No, it's not the mouse, it's a small snake.

Sorry Lyra. I stop her and we both watch the snake slide back in the grass. Her back ripples with outrage. I give her cat biscuits and hold her in my lap, wondering how soon cats forget.