Spartacus, the warrior mouse

Let me catch you up to speed. Earlier today I found this little guy in my house. He was in pretty rough shape, hyperventilating and unable to walk. I live in an old farmhouse, so ordinarily mice and myself are enemies. We often place poison out, and I believe he may have ingested some which left him in this state. This little guy was different though, I felt he deserved a chance at life. So I placed him out by the pine trees at the edge of the property, figuring he would either perish or scamper away. I returned after an adventure to find him still there, refusing to let death embrace him. As a show of my respect for his will to live, I set him up with some nibbles and a spiffy little makeshift cardboard hut.

Six hours later, I returned to find him still clinging to life. He had managed to get himself away from his hut, but quite still in the middle of the yard (about 10 yards from where I had originally left him). The way I see it, if he managed to survive this long and get himself away from the hut, then it is my duty to make sure he has a fighting chance at making it back to his mousey wenches. A true warrior, saying "Fuck you, not today" to death, Spartacus has earned my respect. I set him up for the evening with some old scraps of clothing to stay warm in, and another small handful of nibbles in case his appetite returns. If he survives the night, I will go out and buy him a habitat to begin his rehab. Should death embrace him, I will give him a viking funeral worthy of his spirit and commit his spirit to Mouse Valhalla. Please survive the night little warrior, youve come this far.