Cat and mouse

David and I were sitting at the table at lunch today while he ate his suya, and I kept hearing squeaking. I thought it must be coming from outside, probably some sort of bird in the pine by our front windows. So I didn't think too much of it.

But the squeaking persisted.

And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zoë pounce from under the table into the corner by the front door (that always remains closed). Then it struck me. She had brought a live toy into the house!

It was a mouse, and the poor thing was squeaking wildly as Zoë played with it. (Actually, I have no sympathy for mice. In my mind, they're all rodents and pests. Zoë is welcome to 'em.) David and I tried to chase her outside to enjoy the fun on the porch, but she growled at us and ran the other way. I finally picked her up, holding her at arm's length, and tossed her out the kitchen door, where she finished her playtime outside.

It's good to know our cat's a mouser! But I do hope she keeps her toys outside from now on!