This morning, I am laying in bed thinking about getting up and I hear the cat come in. Normally when he comes in he is very loud, needs to let the whole house know he has arrived. This morning, nothing. This is a bad sign. The reason he is not meowing is because his mouth is full. Yes, he loves us and brings presents often. I would prefer he left them outside. I would really prefer he killed them first. He has from time to time brought in a little mousie buddy to play with. Of course the mousies do not stand a chance, they truly are toys to him. After a few minutes the mousie stops being so much fun. I usually find him at the top of the stairs.
This morning I hear him playing with his toy. I shut my door and wait for the whole thing to be over so that I can dispose of the carcass. If you interrupt him during this play time he loses track of the critter - bad. Well, the commotion goes on for quite some time. It is possible it is a squirrel. I am trapped in the bedroom, stressed out by the nature sounds happening in the living room. I do not have tea or a laptop. I do have knitting. So I knit. I tell myself I will do the cable and the 9 rows to the next cable and then I will assess the situation.
Eventually the wild kingdom is quiet, I hear the cat go back out, and I prepare to be shocked and horrified by what I find. What greats me as I oh so carefully make my way to to the living room, flipping on every light in the hose as I go? Nothing. Let me say it again and let it sink in. Nothing. That's right. At this very moment there is a not quite dead thing somewhere in the house.
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