That cat again

It was a glorious afternoon on Sunday. We were sitting out on the terrace having afternoon tea. The niece, who's apparently "crazy about cats" at the moment, had located Puddy Cat and declared her "my perfect cat". Which led to a long discussion about cats. Waifa appeared on the scene, allowed herself to be admired from afar and wandered off when subjected to the possibility of closer attention from a 'stranger'.

The sister-in-law, regaled us with the story of how Lucy, a cat she'd had many years back, had caught a weasel and brought it into the house and that led to a general discussion about wild creatures and weasels in particular. The conversation turned to other matters.
Waifa reappeared in the orchard.

"What's that in her mouth?" exclaimed the sister-in-law. It was something long and thin which swung from side to side as she trotted towards us. Suddenly Pilot's head shot up and he made as if to run towards the cat. I grabbed his collar. The cat disappeared from view - towards the house.
I let go of the dog and ran through the house to the back door. Just in time to witness Waifa climbing in through the porch window. Landing on the floor, she dropped her gift and "miaouwed" cheerfully. "No wonder Pilot smelled that!" I thought to myself, picking it up from the floor. It was a still warm but very dead and extremely smelly weasel.
"Please don't tell us any more stories about what Lucy brought home" I said to the sister-in-law when I re-joined them all and proudly showed off Waifa's treasure.
"Did I ever tell you about the time the cat caught a big white shark?" she asked, smiling mischievously....