Look what the cat dragged...

upstairs.

Atticus is living up to the phrase. With the exception that when he kills or catches something outside he doesn't bring it to the house. Thank goodness. But what he does do is drag things upstairs to our bedroom. In the middle of the night. It's become a game. We wake up and see what he's dragged into the bedroom.

The other day it was the dust cloth. I don't remember where it had been, maybe in the basement, but it ended up on the floor at the foot of the bed.

This morning it was two rags and a different dust cloth. Those had definitely been in the basement. One was just inside the bedroom door, the other two were over on my side of the bed

So in the middle of the night, when Atticus roams about the house crying, he must find himself in the basement looking around thinking to himself, "What would my human parents be proud of me bringing to them?" Then he spies the dust cloth and carries it two flights of stairs to leave on the floor near our bed.

I just hope to God he sticks to dust cloths.

If I ever find an animal... you'll hear my scream.