Cat and Mouse

   Maybe was staring at the area beneath the drawer of the kitchen stove, historically a sign that she sensed an intruder in the house, of the rodent variety. I diligently put the garbage out several times a day so as not to lure any creatures inside. We have no food that is not sealed, everything else is pretty much kept in the refrigerator, and our food supply is pretty sparse nowadays anyway.  But when I saw her on point, pretty much like an English setter, I moved the loaf of bread from the counter into the microwave, and went to bed.
    I used to put Maybe into the former garage area at night time, but this year have relented and let her stay inside, where she sleeps on the couch.  She's not that young anymore;  in cat years she is roughly the same age as I am, so I sympathize with her increasing need for comfort.  She has gotten into the habit of coming into my bedroom at about 7:00 a.m. and meowing softly for me to give her breakfast. (Her meow is soft because she has only one volume setting. Her mixed heritage of Persian mother and Maine Coon father is responsible for that it seems.) I don't mind her coming in at that time.  If I'm not awake, I'm due to get up soon anyway.  But this morning she made a more peculiar sound before she entered my bedroom and when I looked at the clock, it was only 5:15 so I escorted her out, closed the door on her, and went back to bed.  Too early to eat, I scolded her.
    A few hours later, when I got up and went into the living room, I saw that a pair of pictures on the very top of the bookshelf had been knocked over, one lying on the shelf and the other on the table beneath.  When I opened the curtains, there in the light of day, in the middle of the living room floor, lay a mouse. Maybe must be a stealth killer because this mouse, like all her victims, appeared unmarked, as if sleeping.  Maybe she frightens her prey to death, I don't know.  I only know that I'm glad she lays them out on the floor, and doesn't bring them to me in bed.