Yesterday, I nearly stepped on what I thought was an unusually large ball
of shed fur. On turning on the light and, examining it more closely, it
was revealed as most of a mouse. The identification is  quite certain,
even though it was lacking such typical features of a mouse such as a head
and tail. I am not entirely sure who to, errr, concatyoulate. Betsy was
upstairs, but seemed more interested in her daily complaint that I'm on
the bed and she wants it to herself than in the deceased. Mandy was
downstairs, but of course, could have returned there after depositing the
remains in the upstairs hall.

Anyway, it is clear that I must apologize for years of comments about
their lack of hunting skills. all that stuff about how they scared off
mice by their smell, would starve without a well-filled bowl of food, and
couldn't even catch a mouse when they had it trapped behind the leg of
chair was clearly in error.

I have been watching where I put my feet. I suspect the rest of the mouse
is inside one of the cats, but I am not entirely certain.