Calling all mouse/rat/vole/shrew/miniature-coypu experts.
This little fellow was feeding in the hedgerow hereabouts in broad and full daylight, and was virtually unconcerned at my presence. So unconcerned indeed that, had I not been trained to “you may now leave the monastery, Grasshopper” level, he may have found himself on the wrong side of my size eleven plates of meat. It is only because I object to standing on daisies/dandelions/dog-turds/ants/small aliens and thus keep up a constant watch where I am a-stepping that this gentleman survives…
He has a rather bald tail, so I am leaning towards “well-groomed baby rat”, but my close experience of rats extends only to human politicians, so I am not qualified to make a determination in this case. Cute, yes, until you look closely and notice the creepy hand-like forepaws in a delicate shade of shudder-pink.
Any and all identification suggestions welcomed.
Until he may be addressed by his proper Latin name I shall term him Desmond.
Unless Desmond learns at least the rudiments of running away and blending into the shrubbery we may well have to term him Cat Toy/Dog Food/Bird Food/An Unfortunate Statistic.