When we were still letting our cats roam the outdoors, my big ol' Lonnie Sue was a superior hunter. He too liked to "play" with his prey, and one morning as I was sitting at the kitchen table sipping coffee, he came to show me his latest catch, still alive and kicking. As I tried to persuade him back outdoors, he looked up at me with the mouse hanging from his mouth, mewed, and spat the thing on the floor at my feet. "See me, Mom?" The mouse promptly fled up my pant leg.

I screamed, the mouse flew back down and away into the living room, Lonnie zoomed in the opposite direction, coffee went everywhere, and my SO nearly had a heart attack. Never did re-catch the damned mouse.

Lin