Go fetch!
Zooty, the slightly more insane of our insane cats, has coerced us into giving her treats for fetching. Specifically, because she's so fond of bringing her feathered toys into whichever room we're in—including the ones attached to sticks, which she'll blithely drag along the floor behind her—we'll give her a treat when she does.

Tonight, as I was saying goodnight to my wife (she goes to bed hours before me, i.e. around 1am), Zooty came trotting in, only this time instead of the usual light "dink" of the plastic end of the feathered toy hitting the floor, there was an odd metallic clatter. Puzzled, I looked down, and discovered Zooty sitting and waiting patiently for a treat for fetching the one-inch-by-four-inch rectangle of chain mail my wife had assembled earlier tonight.

On the one hand, we really need to make sure these things are out of her reach. On the other, if we encourage it sufficiently, we could rent her out to Pennsic attendees to retrieve arrows and lost armor.