Seems mighty chummy with the dog all of a sudden. Unexplained calls to F. Lee Bailey's 900 number on your bill. You find a stash of Feline of Fortune magazines behind the couch.
Cyanide pawprints all over the house.
You wake up to find a bird's head in your bed. As the wind blows over the grassy knoll in downtown Dallas, you get a faint whiff of catnip. You find blueprints for a Rube Goldberg device that starts with a mouse chased into a hole and ends with flaming oil dumped on your bed. 5. Has taken a sudden interest in the wood chipper. Instead of dead birds, leaves cartons of Marlboros on your doorstep.