Middle of the night mouse hunt? Really?

Klaus, a former resident of our old house - found and
evicted by our two cats and my lovely husband

I have a vague recollection from last night of my husband telling me not to get out of bed - "He has a mouse." Really? Huh? My half asleep brain said "O.K., back to sleep." and that was it. Apparently our cat found the one random mouse that wanders into our house twice a year. He finds them all, so not sure why they bother coming in. Fortunately it's only once or twice a year in this house, and it generally doesn't end well for the mice. But the middle of the night mice hunts are always a big deal - running around, meowing, huffs and puffs - all from the cat. He really stirs it up when he hunts his middle of the night mice. Then come the words of consolation from Tom when he takes the mostly dead mouse from Bunsen. He generally plays with them to death and wants them to keep playing with him, so he's sad when Tom takes them. It's mouse control at it's finest, and for whatever reason it's always in the middle of the night.