Some people call me Maurice

He's not a space cowboy, he may well be the gangster of love, I don't know. But I do know that I have named him Maurice. He now lives in the garden and feeds daily on fallen bird seed. At first, there was panic that there may well be hundreds, and that the house might be invaded. But upon further investigation, I'm convinced he's just a harmless wood mouse, taking advantage of a free meal. So unless he decides to bring all his mates along, I'm going to store the humane trap I ordered, and enjoy his company for now. Besides, I think he's cute. He is, isn't he?