Sometime in the wee hours, I heard a clattering from the baby-gate that keeps the cats out of my office. There was Zorie, pawing at the grating and seemingly desperate to get... though it? Over it? Then I finally saw the small, miserable-looking mouse that huddled at the top of the gate... she had apparently treed it there. Said mouse was ejected (I didn't want to deal with the row and the ruction of a mouse hunt at that hour, especially since Judy was awake).