Henry is seriously puzzled, it seems.
Apparently, I don’t appreciate enough what he brings me. So he can’t tell what I like. Hence he brought a different kind of mouse every night this week: a normal sized grey one on Tuesday. a fat white one on Wednesday, a thin brown one on Thursday, and a miniature brownish-grey tonight.
Maybe I should start making more of a fuss when he comes in with his special little miaow and a – hopefully – dead mouse.