The Return Of Inspector Maigret

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.


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