I came home from work this morning and found the mouse, dead, on my bed. One of my cats left me a present.
Catching mice is not the kind of behavior I want to discourage, so I just picked it up and threw it out the back door, rather than throw an enormous hissy fit about the dead mouse being left on my bed. Since mice are disease-carrying vermin (the CDC&P has done studies) this meant I had to wash my bedclothes.
All told, actually seeing the mouse is a lot better than stepping on the corpse. That happened to me once with my mother's cat; I got up one morning and went to the kitchen for a snack, and stepped on a DEAD FRICKIN' ROBIN that Mom's cat had brought in. That was pretty disgusting.
I'm pretty impressed with Luna, my black cat; she has no front claws and never had any real training in the art of catching mice--yet given the opportunity, she has turned out to be an effective hunter. She caught her first mouse earlier this year. IttyBit, the calico, demonstrated her mouse-catching abilities before she came to be my cat. I don't know which of the pair caught today's mouse, but it doesn't really matter. That's one less mouse in this house.
