The Kitten has, for the last couple of months, been bringing me a stead supply of crane flies and moths. Almost always still alive, at least until she eats them. "I brought you a moth but I eated it" would be her motto. Last night, she upped the ante. She brought me a rat and left it decapitated in the dog crate. Or perhaps the dogs carried it there; they've always been fans of the dead things the cats gift them with. The Kitten then attempted to bring me a second rat, but Mr P rescued that one.
I've been dreading the day this happened. She's been so dedicated about the flying bugs, though, that I'd hoped she wouldn't be interested in mere rodents. She's belled, at least.
"Thusia" got a chunk of writing last night, post the arrival of helpful comments from the Beta Reader of Extreme Insight. I have another puzzle to write for that story, which I'm still chewing over.
Was thinking that the ability to step into someone else's shoes and imagine the world from their perspective, however briefly, is an intensely valuable skill. Its use to writers is obvious, but I think it's useful in daily life. When I role-play one of my users, imagining how a teenager would use the device I work on. Or even when a coworker comes to me with an annoying or on the surface stupid request-- from some perspective it makes sense, and I'm in a better position (more flexible, powerful) if I can imagine that point of view. There are times when I feel intense sympathy for everybody around me. And times when they baffle me and I wonder how they can be so... insert insulting adjective.
I have much additional amusement this morning, most of it incomprehensible or unspeakable.