One night, at 4:15 a.m., I awoke to the sound of a cat dashing around the upstairs. The racing was punctuated by abrupt stops and loud meowing. When the cat ran into my bedroom for the second time, I turned on the light, and then I saw it: the cat, Luna, was chasing a mouse. At times, she toyed with her prey, catching it between her paws, letting it go and chasing it more. At one point, she brought the mouse under my bed. Now, I do not mind mice outdoors but I am squeamish when they come into the house. With the mouse under my bed, I sat bolt upright with my feet well off the floor. Eventually, the mouse went behind the bookcase and Luna repeatedly darted from one side of the bookcase to the other, peeking each time in the back for her prey.
Knowing that I had to act like an adult, I grudgingly got up to get a bucket and cardboard to trap the mouse. By the time I returned to the bedroom, I found that Luna had lost interest in the mouse and had walked away. So, now I had a mouse in my bedroom — who knows where it had gone — and my job was to trap it or to get back to sleep. I decided to try sleeping, but that did not come easily, partly because I nervously left the light on for half an hour. Finally, I turned off the light and eventually drifted off to sleep, only to awaken soon to my 6 a.m. alarm.
In case Luna succeeded in her hunting, I looked in the morning for a dead mouse, but I did not find one. Blech! What a way to start the day!