The rectory was quiet, nobody around with all the activity being mostly with the priests meeting parishioners after Mass. I ducked out early. I'm sure the mouse thought I wasn't around, either.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
I heard him in the kitchen and after a little bit of patience and maneuvering, I caught him. Wow! I haven't lost my touch!
Little mouse, I gave you your last rites, so you should be okay. I am a cat, after all, but I do feel badly, even though you should know any house with a cat is a danger zone.
I hope the other mice contemplating meeting me or hanging out in the kitchen for crumbs from the housekeeper's cooking will think twice.
So, for this Mancat Monday, I really proved myself! I became a mouser once again!
PS - Afterwards, I did go to my dish for my leftover breakfast of fish. Between you and me, mouse doesn't taste nearly as good.
Holy and huntingly yours,
Tom








