I was making coffee first thing and looked down . . . Hello! There was water in the sink because I was soaking a dirty dish. I could hardly eat all day. Needless to say, the dish and the sink got a good scrubbing.
Earlier that night, Nicky, our sometimes-indoor cat, ate another mouse. I come into the living room to see him finishing it up—-just the tail and some entrails left. It made a crunching sound. I made a gagging sound and left the room.
My story is that the mice were lovers and when one got killed, the other committed suicide.
Somewhere, a tiny Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim are composing a high-pitched, Alvin and the Chipmonks-style musical:
There's a [mousehole] for us,
A [cheese] and [crum] for us.
Hold my [tail] and we're halfway there.
Hold my [tail] and I'll take you there