or, I Do Not Find The Hanged Man
It looks like accidental death, constable.
There has been a hint of Fall in the air, more a coalescence and angling of light than any drop in temperature, and the cats are reacting with a headlong, hunty careening about the house that occasionally culminates in Cat Toy Mayhem.
This afternoon, the small bath mat where I put kibble snacks and the water dish was tossed about and this piteous scene met my eyes. (Note: no real mice were injured in the production of this picture.)
The Inspector assures me it is all a misadventure.