A Little Help Here, Please

Jamie is going to write about her trip to Florida (only the favorite kid got to go with her) but first I have something to say. I'm a cat and it's not easy to train people, but Jamie has brought things to an all new level of incompetence. I mean, all she has to do is keep my food bowl full, the litter box empty and stay out of my way. That doesn't seem like too much to ask. But there she was yesterday completely stepping on my toes--and then acted like I was the problem. I can see I'm going to have to time-line the facts for you so you can judge for yourself:
I am a hunter. It's what I was born to do. I don't think Jamie was born to do that, so her opinion is not always helpful. So I tend to ignore her. I have lately been reading signs that say the mice aren't necessarily all gone. They get careless at night because they think when I'm curled up under blankets I can't sense them. So I've heard some scratching in the walls and some skittering in the cupboards. And I'm on high alert. Yesterday I was ready to make my move. I was inching my way carefully along the counter with an unsuspecting mouse right in my sights, oh so slowly making my way closer to the wily creature when along comes bumbling Jamie--she took one look at the target and screamed. That's right. Screamed. Which started a frenzy of activity. The dogs started running full speed around the house trying to climb the walls, the kid started crying, (either because his mom screamed or because she grabbed him and perched precariously on a chair) and the mouse, of course, ran away. Good grief. Since I'm a wise hunter, I knew it would be a while before I could re-set my trap, so I decided to take a nap. And all I wanted before my nap was a little snack. But Jamie seemed to think that would spoil my appetite for mouse so she refused to feed me. And kept pointing out that the mouse was trying to sneak back onto the counter--I tried to tell her I knew all that and to have patience, but she wouldn't listen. Then she picked me up and put me on the counter when the mouse was right there--I tried to pretend I didn't see it (how can you play cat and mouse when the mouse knows you know it's there?) and then she said the dogs could do a better job catching mice than I could. Excuse me? Those are fighting words, missy. Well, through persistence I managed to convince her to feed me my snack. And then dinner. And then a bedtime snack. And while everybody was sleeping I did my job. I wasn't hungry though, so I left the mouse right in the middle of the bathroom. See, sometimes I don't mind if she screams.