The mouse sat with her back to the cart.

The young mouse sat beside him and laid out the food.

The ancient mouse sat dawn at the breakfast table with a small groan.

The mouse sat cool as water ice, cards a smooth fan between quiet fingers, and called for her seconds.

The mouse sits on the upper section of my desk, attached but unused.

The young mouse sat up carefully and looked around.

One bloody mouse sat on his sternum, trying to clean itself.

The old mouse sat tapping his paw upon the record book.

The little mouse which had run so fast and so far would now sit still in its corner.

Much like the monitor, the mouse will probably sit unused most of the time.