Picture the scene: one orange fuzzball cat, silent and still, intently watching one end of a bookcase in the hall. Then he purposefully moves to the other end of the same bookcase and again sits and sits. Him Behind the Wheel says…..there’s a mouse behind there. Don’t be ridiculous, says I, anyway the cat only brings in dead ones. The cat moves away and I use this as evidence that there is no mouse anywhere near.
The next morning …….what do I find on top of the aforementioned bookcase?
Got it in one…….mouse droppings!
Clearly your cat is an amateur. Molly would have had that mouse up the stairs and under the bed I was sleeping in in no time. Then we’d have had a game of cat-and-mouse-and-priest (I assess the situation then try to catch the less skilled creature). If I win, the (live) mouse gets put outside. If Molly wins, the (dead) mouse gets put outside. When it is clearly a draw, I leave the mouse under the wardrobe, and Molly and I go to sleep in guest bedroom.
There is a new variation on this game called ‘bring the shrew to the pastoral visitors’. It’s good practice for them, after all.
Fox is obviously dumb…..but then he is a castrated male!