Keogh the Hunter!

Miaoow, Keogh fans...
Sometimes I can't do right for doing wrong.
Two days ago, I brought a mouse into the home I share with humans. This is something I once took great pride in doing. I'd present the mangled rodent to the nearest human, which is quite a compliment.
They'd scream - one elderly visitor fainted - then chase me out of the property. This reaction puzzled me greatly. Is a dead mouse that scary? Not as scary as a two legged hairless creature, surely?
Anyway, I thought ridding the property of mice is my job. Maybe they just want me to gently shepherd the pests from the garden. If so, they should've purchased a mouse-dog. If they're that desperate to keep the things alive they should try mouse-to-mouse resuscitation.
Now I secretly bring my hunting successes, particularly the live ones, into the house.
Anyway, two days ago I brought a mouse into the home. Alerted by the commotion behind the sofa, I was unceremoniously dragged away and dumped outside.
The result? One mouse on the loose in the living room - and humans blissfully unaware.
It emerged last night during Emmerdale. A quick scamper across the polished wood flooring and five minutes of hide and squeak.
After upturning all the furniture, the humans admitted defeat and sent me in to finish what I started 48 hours before.
After chasing it onto the patio, the mouse finally submitted and prepared to meet its maker. As it lay, gasping on the slabs the mouse whimpered: "I've just seen an angel!"
"Fraid your wrong, mate," I growled. "It's a bat."