This morning, in the middle of my kitchen floor, there was a dead mouse.
I had to sweep him onto a piece of cardboard and into a plastic bag.
At which point I discovered that he wasn't quite dead. He was dead enough not to move when I had stomped my feet on the floor and shouted, "ARE YOU DEAD?" but not dead enough to keep him from kicking his back legs a little when I touched him with the broom.