I use blue half barrels for feeders. This morning there was a mouse in one of them.
Sheba, world famous for her mouse hunting skills, got the mouse. She tossed it in the air, caught it—sometimes. Buford wanted to play too! Sheba snarled at him, plainly telling him it was HER mouse. Sheba tossed it around, when it didn’t move, she batted with her paw to make it run again. It ran between her legs, it ran under Buford, it ran trying to get away. But a mouse is too good of a toy to let it get away.
Finally it didn’t run anymore. Sheba finally let Buford have it. Just like a bossy child, the toy is broken now, you can have it.