Evening shift at the café: a mouse saunters across the dining room floor. A customer notices and complains. Most restaurants in London have mice. Trouble is when you have a militant animal rights restaurant…you can’t set traps, put down poison…you can’t kill the mice! You can’t even, in good conscience, kill cockroaches. That’s speciesism.
So we spent hours placing plastic bowls with tasty morcels in strategic places, hoping that the mouse would somehow jump into the bowl which would enable us to deposit it outside. As I implied earlier, this mouse was very relaxed around us. Would stroll around. Do the mice know it’s a vegan restaurant?
Dvd, the waitress, at this suggestion, pronounced enigmatically: “Mice have nerves nearer to their brains than we do.” They talked about getting in a cat. “So it’s allright if another animal kills it, but not us?” I asked.