Last night I went to Mass so that I could sleep in this morning. No such luck. We were awakened with "Squeak, squeak, SQUEAK!" Dallas had caught a mouse. Dallas is the cat we inherited when my son, Mark, moved out.
I tried to get Dallas to go outside on the porch, so I could shut the sliding glass door and go back to bed. No such luck.
She dropped it on the kitchen floor. It looked dead. Dick picked it up with a paper towel and placed it outside on the grass. He said he thinks it was still alive, just in shock.
Whatever.
Doubt
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