On the first or second night in which Gail was allowed to roam the apartment back when we adopted her, she left a(n optical) mouse in Andy's shoe. I always figured she had done it since she had realized she would never be allowed outside to obtain a war trophy and had gone for the next best thing instead; after all, kitties seem to have some collective conscience thing about leaving deceased war trophies in shoes, beds, and so on. Heidi, on the other hand, never seemed to see any such need to do so.
Until today. I was pulling my boot on to leave for Kitty City and suddenly realized I was stepping on something hard and lumpy. At first I thought it was some of my rock show loot, but within seconds I had determined it was one of the little mousies we gave to the kitties a few days ago. In fact, it was the same mousie which already had its 15 seconds of fame in this post
Memo to self: I really need to scan some of those pre-digital-camera pictures of the stuff Gail used to do. Some of the newer readers may not even realize the sheer irony of Gail being the calm one.