One thing you should always keep in mind is that Mommy needs her caffeine prior to any lovely finds you might have for her.
Now, I realize that when you joyfully hopped into my lap in yesterday morning (all peppy and looking for some affection) you were quite proud of yourself. The recognition you'll be credited here is well deserved. However, it should be noted that as I stiffly and begrudgingly roll out of bed (BED?!? That's a whole other post...) in the morning, it is wise to hide whatever surprises you hold in store for me, at least until after my second cup of coffee.
I will admit, at first I was a little pissed off. The three little blobs on the floor quite honestly did look like kitty-poo in the dim morning light. My disdain quickly turned to worry as I saw the spot of blood in the largest of the piles of goop. Then utter confusion set in as I tried to comprehend how on earth you'd digested and then (pooped?? Thrown up??) somehow eliminated a large, fuzzy dandelion.
Imagine my shock when, upon closer investigation, the dandelion had feet! The realization quickly hit home that - my dear little love of a furball - you had caught (and soundly demolished) a mouse.
Now I apologize for my initial reaction. Yes, it was a bit awkward for you when I began jumping around, flapping my arms, screaming "EW! EW! EW!!" I apologize also for your look of sheer disappointment when I swept up the leftovers of your present (with broom and dustpan both securely wrapped in paper toweling) and took it outside to the garbage and then promptly dumped gallons of cleaning solution and boiling water on the spots. It simply had to be done.
Please forgive my lack of snuggles for you for the several hours following finding your gift to me. The thought of your cute little whiskers too clearly brought to my mind the whiskers sticking out of the smallest of the globs. I must say, I was quite impressed (and frankly completely grossed out) that you'd removed all trace of it's head save the nose (again - EW!!!).
Be assured that your efforts will not be entirely in vain. For all your six-month-old loyalty, as well as your chivalry and bravery in ridding our household of creepy-crawly-type yucky things, I hereby declare you immune to the tortures of declawing.
I sincerely apologize that I cannot say the same for the removal of certain other body parts you might also be fond of.
Love, the Mommy person.