I’ve had cats for twenty years. I’ve never had one bring me a mouse before.
About a week ago, my son swore he saw a mouse in the kitchen. No one else saw it, and there were no signs it was here. Nothing was nibbled on and I have bags of various types of birdseed and peanuts in the kitchen. There were no mouse droppings. I kept checking. Nothing. We put out humane traps, thinking if we caught the mouse, we’d relocate it a few miles away outside. The traps remained empty.
This morning very early on I heard a cat frolicking under and around my bed. I thought Chase, the bigger cat, was pestering Ginny (as is common around here). I went to stand up out of bed and almost stepped on Ginny. She meowed and got into bed with me and we went back to sleep.
When I got up to take blood pressure medication that I take at 6:00 every morning, I saw something on the floor at the foot of my bed and thought it was a cat toy and walked around it. I took my pill and went back to bed.
When I finally got up this morning, the “toy” at the foot of my bed was still there. I touched it, and it didn’t feel right. I grabbed my glasses. Ugh. Cold, dead mouse. It looked like it was sleeping. It was dark gray with a white belly. Ginny must’ve killed it and brought it to me. She was probably annoyed I didn’t wake up and praise her for bringing me such a wonderful gift.
Good kitty. She got treats and praise after I threw out my present. It finally made its way back outside, outside to our trash can, that is.