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From upstairs, I hear the cat. “MROW” she says, definitely in all caps. I wonder if she’s announcing that she’s just come inside, or the impending regurgitation of grass or that she’s brought us a (hopefully) dead present.

The (thankfully) dead mouse is deposited outside where it belongs and the cat is now hunting people and resting.

Crossposted from Journey to the Center, comment here or there with OpenID.

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