And a creature was stirring, all right… and it was, indeed, a mouse. You might think four cats, two of them proven mousers, would take care of it without much fuss. Indeed, it’s happened before. We’ve taken mice from the maws of cats, and found others, um, too late. But this time, me and my wife were aroused from our sound winter’s nap by a cacophony of meows. Like Mr. Moore’s unnamed narrator, we sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. A thumb-sized creature was scurrying from chair to couch, streaking into the kitchen, then scurrying from stove to refrigerator, while the cats went about either executing an elaborate game plan or just running about in a disorganized manner. Probably the latter, since the mouse survived the night (we think) and is still holed up somewhere. I think that the cats confounded each other. Instead of one of them just taking charge, they were fighting over responsibilities. “No, YOU go flush it out, and I’LL catch it” etc., each of them wanting to be the hero and relegating the others to supporting cast. This is why cats have never successfully launched a professional sports league. They all want to be coach, quarterback and ball carrier. There’s a lesson to be learned there, especially if you’re a mouse.