My fingers are really in a terrible state. Like Utah.

Meanwhile, in a reprise of an old theme:
Jen: I want a cat.
Me: You can't have a cat.
Jen: Why not?
Me: Because you have a mouse.
Jen: It could... like...
Me: Get eaten? Or rather, get tossed about in the air, tortured, and then eaten? Or rather, tortured and then just left somewhere for you to find?
Jen: I'd warn the mouse first.

(My apologies to anyone who lives in Utah.)