I’ve had suspicions about the possibility that a mouse had moved in. This is partially due to the fact that the previous owner had casually mentioned she’d had mice residents and the strange behaviour exhibited occasionally by the cats. Fergus in particular.
My furry darlings will sit in the kitchen staring intently under a cupboard with their noses about 3 inches away from the floor. I never saw anything.
This didn’t concern me too much. After all, I have two large cats (born for the task of dealing with tiny little mice) and a dog bred for rat-catching. Admittedly the latter is very old, but she doesn’t know that.
A little while ago Fergus jumped off the couch, stalked into the kitchen, and slowly made his way along the bottom edge of the counter to the far side of the room.
I switched from my computer glasses, to the ones that allow me to see better at distance, and saw a small shadow creeping along the floor. Fergus’ nose was about a paw-length behind its butt.
That’s it. That’s all that happened. Oh yeah, and the dog was snoring in the other room.
I may have to rethink my confidence in their ability and/or willingness to deal with unwanted guests.
This Fundy Migrant's Tale 
You need a cat like Torvald. He decimated the local mice population (and carelessly left evidence) and then set to work on rabbits. He was awesome.
I once saw the next door neighbour’s young son and a friend of his watching Torvald sunning himself on the grass in our garden.
This was the conversation:
Francis: That’s Torvald.
Friend (in a tone of awes): ‘E’s really ‘ard, in’ he?
Francis (with quiet pride): Yeah.
Once, we were sitting in the living room when a bird flew down the chimney and into the room, panicked. We leapt up, wondering how we would catch it. Torvald walked into the room, sized up the situation in a glance and rose up imto the air. When he came down again, the bird was in his jaws. It was like watching a really superb sportsman doing his sport – like watching a cricketer take the catch that will win him Man of the Match – grace, speed and surety combined.
He then made a dash to the catflap to take his prey outside; we caught him, removed the bird and shoved it through the catflap to fy away while restraining Torvald who was perfectly furious. His bird – and … we let it GO.
You need Torvald.
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Fergus and Duff (not surprisingly) disagree. They seem to think I need a mouse.
sigh
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