Ick

If anyone else in the house had cared they might have come running when I shrieked with outrage and began to bellow "No! NO!!!" and hurtle from the dining room through the hall and kitchen and out to the conservatory... just in time to meet my cat as she carefully deposited a small, brown, furry corpse in the middle of the floor. I fled - no, I retreated in good order, firmly shutting the kitchen door with the cat on the far side, and attempted to fortify my nerves for the ordeal of getting rid of the dead mouse.

Do you know what's worse than finding a mouse corpse on your conservatory floor? Not finding one, that's what. Where is it? What has that evil cat *done* with my 'present'?

Moan.