Well, last Monday one of the first things I did was to step barefoot in a pile of cat barf. I had noted its existence earlier, but entirely forgot about it while racing to get to the phone.

And the very next day THIS happened:

My big orange guy Mortimer is NOT a hunter. I'd like to point that out. Bugs are about the only critters that interest him. Tuesday I had proof that he had, indeed, caught a mouse. But I think he probably had his mouth open when he was sleeping and a less-than-bright mouse ran in and Mortimer woke up with a start , closed his mouth and munched the mouse.

How I knew something like this had happened was Mort, after spending the night by choice in the cellar, came bounding onto the bed to say good morning. But he had something hanging from the corner of his mouth that turned out on closer inspection to be mouse guts.

Ol' Mouse Breath did seem a bit happier when I wiped his mouth with a kleenex and quickly disposed of it.

I guess he didn't have the experience to leave all those interesting parts at the foot of the stairs or someplace like that.

Linn