Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,

 O, what a panic's in thy breastie! 
and that's just me, let alone the mouse!

Having moved and checked all the stuff under which the mouse had been living, it was time to put it all back again.
And, blow me, if there wasn't pile of poo under there - and it stayed there until Mr Flum could go through the whole procedure again.

He found that the mouse had nibbled a hole in a soft fabric bag and the back of a cheap backpack but it was finally run to earth hiding in a large shopping bag. Once captured (and blipped) it was taken for a stroll up the road and deposited where it can roam free, out of range of our local cats.

And I can relax - until Bramble decides we need another present.

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