Here's this hen strolling through the backyard, humming her tune and tentatively pecking at things. You're watching her, contemplating how dinosaurs might have looked the same and how they must have moved in those alien ways. One second later she's raced into a shrub and plucked a mouse from between the leaves on the ground.

And you can't help but feel a pang of regret for the vermin. You lost many of your ancestors in just this way. You're a survivor. Tomorrow you're going to eat that egg. In revenge.