After hours of stalking and after scaring the crap out of me several times with loud crashing noises, Stevie was successful in her quest. When I went to bed, she was sitting in the kitchen, staring intently into one of the lower cupboards. The only indication that she even knew I was there was a single twitching ear. K came into our room not long after.
R: What's wrong?
K: Stevie caught the mouse!
R: Is it dead?
R: Where is it?
K: On the kitchen floor.
R: What's Stevie doing?
K: She keeps picking it up and dropping it.
R: Ok. That's a message for your dad then. Thanks!
Maybe I'll stop trying to give her away now. Stevie that is, not K.