My cat Emerson is asking for my help...which I'm not about to give.
He found a mouse last night. There was squeaking, and then some active digging behind my dresser late into the night. My husband helped with the hunt briefly, but determined it was much too late for this. Emerson gave up at some point, too, as he reappeared to sleep on my feet. But once I got up, apparently the mouse tried to make another run for it, and Emerson was making it squeak some more. He had it trapped in a pile of laundry. He would pounce periodically to see what noise the laundry might make next. I went in my library and shut the door.
I am accepting that cats are predators and love to hunt and play. So, I let them. However, I am not going to assist them.
Emerson knocked on the door a little while ago. He made quite a show of jumping on my lap, purring, flopping over and generally being a love bug. I made a trip to the kitchen. He turned off into the bedroom and asked politely if I would come, too. He began to circle around the dresser again, looking up at up and making his little "meh" noises when requesting assistance.
I guess the mouse is in hiding again. Emerson keeps circling the library and bedroom. Somebody needs to make the little rodent come out and play. That won't be me.
Betty, a little more arthritic than her partner in crime, has decided the mouse is too fast to bother. She's not helping, either.
I just hope it doesn't perish in an inaccessible spot...that smells.