Seriously?

Where's the @!&$ mouse?

You would think if someone had [gulp] eaten it, there would be some evidential glorp on the floor.  A schmear to clean?  Something!

[quaking with ickiness]

I'm not afraid of a mouse.  I'm afraid of the smell of a dead mouse.  Have you ever had the pleasure of smelling a decaying mouse corpse in your home?  You can't get away from it, you just have to wait until it fades.

On the farm, we would lay out bait, and of course, it would be eaten.  Stupidly, we figure the critter would go off and die somewhere - never figuring it would 'go off and die somewhere' IN THE HOUSE!!

Sheesh!

I had hoped I would be able to tell whether or not somebody had ingested the little fella by way of a diminished appetite at breakfast.  But, no!  I could picture it, all the girls in their eating positions, waiting to be served.  Hobbes, sniffs at her portion and pushes back with a burp.

"No shanks...nones for me [urp]. How 'bout just a cup of coffee and a Rolaids, please."

Guess I know what I will be doing all day (until I find the corpse, or proof of ingestion).

[glurk]