At some point earlier today my wife was able to drop a bowl on top of our little home invading mouse house guest.
When I got home I was able to slide the bowl and its contents on top of a piece of paper, flip it over, and carry it outside where I could set our mouse house guest free. It squeaked a lot as I was trying to pick it up, but when I tipped it out of the bowl outside in the yard it didn’t move at all. It just sat there on the ground. It was clearly alive, just shocked out of its brain.
I figured it was too embarrassed by the whole experience to make any kind of move while I was watching so I left it to its own thing and started walking back to the house. As I was walking through the door I distinctly heard the tiniest, faintest squeak that sounded exactly like a mouse version of William Wallace in Braveheart shouting, “FREEDOM!”
I’m totally serious about that last part. Totally. I mean, would I lie to you about something like that?
Inside the Red Head's Head 