The Great Black Hunters

The cats, or I should say one of the cats, has taken to leaving us small gifts sometime during the course of the night. At first, when the dear, dead creatures would show up, it was debatable as to which cat loved us so. We've come to the conclusion that it is our little wild beastie, Violet, who has the talent of the chase.

A couple of nights ago, Hubby was awoken from slumber by the pitter-patter of small clawed feet scrabbling across the kitchen floor. As this is not a normal sound, he went to investigate. There he saw the wee beastie playing with her new toy, a rat. Hubby said that it wasn't a large rat, and she quickly disposed of it, and he then put the rat into its final resting place.

This morning I was on my way to the shower when I noticed a nice dead mouse laying close to our bedroom door. Sigh. Not the nicest way to wake up in the morning. I was a good girl and got rid of it myself, so Hubby didn't have to.

So far her count is: three mice, one rat and one bird. That one was fun, woke up to feathers all over the living room. Black feathers everywhere. No body pieces...except the head and all those feathers.

I dread the morning, when I first step outside our room. I'm glad they have their animal instincts, they are predators and need to hunt, but ick...I wish they'd leave it outside. I guess it's better than spraying the carpet or tearing up the furniture. Her efforts have stepped up in the past few days. Any time now we're expecting to see a squirrel. That would be worth something. For now as long as she doesn't leave them in the house alive, I guess I'll deal. But, it's still ick ick icky!