To a Mouse

I thought I heard some scratching last night. Not keen to go looking because earlier this year we had a family who had rather a good feast courtesy of my treasures in the attic and, in fact under the stairs below.
They feasted on conkers I had collected over the years and had stored while the christmas decorations were up and then in the attic they just had a good nibble of this and that and all things nice.
Passing by Robert Burns ' cottage today I remembered this sculpture, by Kenny Hunter, in honour of the poet's famous poem " To a Mouse". Every child learns it at school but I am not sure many take heid of the true meaning.