Our newest cat, Irina, brought me a present this evening, and dropped it at my feet. The problem, if you want to call it that, is that it was still alive. So, when she dropped it, it skittered away, but didn’t get very far. I kicked it back over to her, and she tried again, caught it, and ran off with it into the new wing of the house. Since I didn’t see her again within a couple of minutes, I went to check on her.
I figured she’d eaten it, but she hadn’t. She was toying with it, and it was still alive, so when she dropped it again, and it scampered off the rug onto the tile, I stomped on it. Once was all it took. Better to squash it there than on the rug. Then, she carted off the carcass, and once again, I thought she’d eat it. Nope. She returned it to near the site of the kill, but left it on the rug, with its guts hanging out, and abandoned it. We have three little huntresses, so if Irina hadn’t caught it, Monica or Greta would have, and they would have known how to kill it. Irina’s the youngster. I guess she’s still learning.
Needless to say, that mouse went out with this evening’s garbage. I wouldn’t want to be bitten by one, but a mouse skittering across my bare feet isn’t enough to freak me out. I’d just call the cats, and tell them “Get, it, girls!” Step two is for me to kill it, if they can’t/won’t. Step three is carcass disposal. In this case, Irina had it, so I didn’t have to call the other two to action.
Evidently, all the garter snakes we’ve seen this summer aren’t quite enough to control the mouse population. We live in the country, so everything from mice to snakes to snapping turtles to foxes to coyotes to black bears come with the territory. The mice are attracted by the bird seed feeders just as much as the birds are, so we do see them occasionally outside in the herb garden and patio areas. One must have gotten inside while we had the sliders open for a few seconds. It happens maybe once every other year. When we go in or out, we’re paying more attention to not letting our cats or dog outside than looking for whatever might get inside.
Thankfully, Irina didn’t hold it against me that I made the kill for her. She was so proud of herself, trotting up to me to lay that present at my feet. I’ve had neighborhood cats bring me dead birds, and leave them just outside a door as a “thanks for the catnip” gift. Those weren’t songbirds. A couple of them were adult grackles, and one was a juvenile crow. In the blazing sun, those start stinking pretty quickly, so I guess a live mouse is preferable. Anyway, when I went to check on her, and called her name, Irina came running to greet me, and went all purring fur-ball on me, so we’re good.
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