Day one of petsitting a friend’s mouse (while said friend frolics in Paris): figuring out if this pet will entertain our other much noisier, much poopier, wheel-less pet.

He’s a brown and white character who loves his toilet paper roll cave and a few Carr crackers now and then. It’s a bit odd that we are actively trying to kill his urban relatives, who run free in our kitchen (not the same market for free range mice as there is for chickens), while he lounges in his entertainment room. Maybe he’ll convince them switch apartments?

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