Anyway, so I haven't been hallucinating, dreaming or otherwise making it all up, it really is a mouse and it really is in the apartment. Since the first night of major chewing however we've not seen or heard any evidence... beyond of course the sight of the damn thing taking possession of our living room. We have no idea where it's based itself beyond the vague suspicion that it is living in the kitchen and so tomorrow the kitchen gets
It appears also that now the creature has been in the house for a few days, it is finally leaving enough of a scent trail for our old puss to get a whiff of, however our suspicion that he was once a pampered show cat is gaining legs as it is clear that while he can smell something, he's not entirely certain what to do about it... I suspect that he and real mice have never had the pleasure, so to speak.
The upshot is that Teddymouse, his ancient lump of spit-stiff terry-towelling filled with something that might once have been catnip, is getting some renewed abuse as his instincts battle it out with his manners. Sammy is now strutting about the place as if he really has done battle and I swear the whole thing is actually doing him some good - perhaps some ancient pheremone receptor is pumping him full of energy. Or something.
The spud, now he is old enough to understand what Teddymouse is about is now putting life and limb at risk by trying to tempt Sammy with Teddymouse and Sammy is again proving what a gent he is by not lifting a paw while the spud is holding on... the result however is that my little boy, who REALLY wants Sammy to play with the toy the way he does when I drag it about, is getting very frustrated.
Anyway, we are no further ahead in our quest to evict our mouse, however our rickety old grey bone-bag is now a lionesque hunter, long may he roar.